


Wait a Minute, Mister Postman

by OfficialStarsandGutters, TigerStripedSniper (seazu)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 86,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialStarsandGutters/pseuds/OfficialStarsandGutters, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seazu/pseuds/TigerStripedSniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jim's stuffy, old, pot-bellied postman takes a heart attack, his route is assigned to a new, younger, hot postman; retired soldier Sebastian Moran. Unfortunately for him, Moran's repressed homosexuality and internalized homophobia means he's less than eager to let him in, but Jim sees a wealth of potential there, and he's never been against playing the long game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on one of Charlie and I's AU RPs. Our longest, and one of the few we've finished; we are very fond of this verse, and hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed creating it.  
> Sebastian is written by Charlie (seazu), and Jim is written by me (Dear Jim).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim meets his hot new postman, and it's not long before they've had their first argument.

"Coming," Jim shouts, quickly giving himself a pat down.

His pot bellied post man has been routinely late for the last two months, but of course the day he's decided to come early, is the day Jim's fresh from the shower. Typical. He ties the towel around his waist, pushes wet hair back from his forehead, and pitter patters his way to the door. Ugh. He's going to have dripped water everywhere.

This despairing trail of thought is lost when he opens the door to, well, certainly not the usual greying-around-the-temples idiot. In fact, rather the opposite; tall, athletic, blonde. Looks a good deal younger. Mmm yes, quite an improvement indeed.

"Hi. Sorry about that." He laughs, good natured. Licks a drop of water from his upper lip and looks the postman dead in the eye.

“No problem,” is the mumbled reply he receives. The postman tucks a handful of letters under his arm as he sorts out his signature pad. He's ran in to so many bleary eyed, half awake, half dressed, apologetic lads and ladies since he's started that they've all run together into one zombie nation of 'early morning ew', so he pays little mind to Jim's state of undress, frowning as he taps aggressively at his pad. The fucker barely responds to the touch pen. Loads of fun. Finally glancing up as he holds it out for Jim. “Need you to sign.”

"Yeah, no trouble."

Jim has perfected the art of signing for packages. He shifts his body so he's a little closer to the postman, and in a few quick wrist motions he's scribbled out a wiggly shape that has a vague J at the beginning of it.

"Is-" name. Name name. What was the pot bellied one's name? Pretty certain he wheezed out that his name was Arthur at one point or another. "Arthur ill or something?"

"Arthur? Yeah, I don't know. I just started, so maybe they changed his route.” The postman holds out Jim's package, exchanging it for his signature pad. “All I know is this is my walk. For now, at least. Heard some geezer had a heart attack though, maybe that was him."

Jim doesn't let his utter delight at this small fact show. He frowns, eyes widening into a look of sympathy.

“Poor Arthur. I hope he's alright.”

He doesn't. He hopes he dies. He hopes it is slow and painful, hopes he wheezes his last breath, and that he's late to his own funeral. Not letting these thoughts show, Jim watches as the postman adjusts his letter bag on his shoulder with a little shrug, before he offers his hand.

"'m Bastian, by the way. I guess I'll be seeing you around?"

"I'm Jim." Jim shifts his parcel to accept his hand. Sebastian has a nice shake; firm, doesn't linger too long. "It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah well, if it's the same guy, I'm sure he's fine. In the hospital, I think. They wanted me to sign a card and chip in for his present." There is a visible struggle as he tries not to snort, but he does give a little laugh. "I'm not really popular with the posties right now.”

For fuck sake, Arthur, you can't even die properly. Still a disappointment. Jim gives a little smile, eyes still soft around the edges with concern. His chuckle is forced, to accompany Sebastian's laugh.

“Anyway, I'll let you get on, Jim. You'll catch your death standing there.”

"Yeah, well, t'anks." Jim wiggles the parcel vaguely beneath his arm. "Have a nice day!"

He takes a little longer to close the door than usual, getting one more good look at Sebastian before he does.

*

Jim makes sure he's dressed the next time he's expecting a parcel, because he finally has a postman who comes on time. Thought those were a myth. Sebastian is sorting through his post when Jim gets to the door, balancing parcels. Hasn't been at this long enough to have a better system yet. He flashes Jim a stretched out smile that is completely fake.

“Parcels,” is all he says, handing them to Jim as he tugs at his belt for his signature pad. “Two to sign for today.”

"Hello again." Jim leans against the door, and while Sebastian is fumbling for his pad, he takes the time to look at him closer. Rich upbringing is the first thing he picks up on, which really doesn't fit with postman in Jim's mind. When he finally attains the signature pad, he notes the callouses on Sebastian's fingers. Oh. Those definitely look like they're from gun work.

“Thanks.” Sebastian takes the pad back, stabbing at it with the pen until it does what he wants. Giving Jim a brief nod, he turns and leaves.

Jim's quite displeased. Stuffy old Arthur used to talk to him for _ever._ He couldn't escape, but his new, hot postman isn't even paying attention to him. This is unacceptable. Something has to be done.

That something, apparently, is internet stalking.

Well, it's just a little background information to back up what he's already learned from his own observation and cleverness. A little name search here, a few hacked government documents there.

Nothing major.

*

The next time Sebastian knocks at his door, the fire alarm is blaring. When Jim opens the door, he is clad only in a pair of green boxer briefs, and the smell of burning follows him out. He is not pleased, and it shows. He scowls at Sebastian, wielding a brush that he'd been using to try and turn off his alarm, as he is too short to reach.

“Everything alright?” Sebastian is frowning, instantly alert, post forgotten. He glances past Jim, in to his flat.

“Oh yes, just _peachy._ ” Jim waves the brush dangerously as he speaks, voice raised to be heard over the blaring of the alarm.

"You need some help?"

Jim doesn't require help. He is perfectly capable.

Except, the noise is kind of doing his head in.

"Could you maybe get the-? I can't reach."

Oh, the shame.

Sebastian nods, waiting for Jim to shift so he can enter. He follows the noise, leaving the parcels on the kitchen counter when he locates the alarm. It's not difficult for him to stretch up an arm, button easily in reach. The silence is immediate, but his ears are still ringing from the sound when Jim appears at his side, sighing with relief and rubbing at his temple. Sebastian gives him a little smile, clearing his throat.

“No fires to put out, then?”

"Not today, no. Maybe tomorrow."

He doesn't think to feign a smile, so that comes out in rather a threatening manner. Would probably be less threatening if Sebastian knew he'd just had a hair dryer explode on him. That's definitely not getting a good review.

“Okay, well, could you sign for those?"

When Jim reaches for the pen, a static shock jumps between his and Sebastian's hand. Jim swears softly. He's already been electrocuted by the exploding hair dryer. Today's just going a bit shit. One quick scribble later, that isn't even an effort at his name, and he's done.

“You sure you're okay?" Sebastian frowns, absently rubbing at his hand where Jim shocked him.

"I'm not dead, so I suppose I can't really complain."

Jim's tone is clipped and curt. He looks at Sebastian expectantly, waiting for him to leave so he can shut the door. Not in the mood to play nice today. Sebastian doesn't press the issue any further, clipping his pad on to his belt and letting himself out, but the whole situation makes an impact on him. When he arrives back the next day, he actually remembers Jim, for the first time.

*

Jim is groggy and still half asleep when he stumbles to the door. He'd been up typing up reviews through the night, and had fallen asleep on the couch, laptop still propped on his chest. He greets Sebastian with a long yawn, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Sebastian's usual cheerful opener of “parcel” is a tad cautious today, as he hands Jim said parcel.

“You must live on shopping websites.”

"S'for work. Not that bad a shopaholic."

"I'd ask you what you do, but apparently that's not appropriate. Though, you already know what I do, so the tables are unfairly balanced, far as I can see."

That earns Sebastian a sleepy little smile as Jim takes the pen to scribble his signature.

"I review products. Essentially, I get given lots of free things, and then I get paid to use them." He makes a show of sighing theatrically. "It's tough digs, but someone has to do it."

"Sounds horrible, much rather be walking around from shit o'clock in the morning than given free things." But Sebastian smiles, because he actually enjoys his job. He's always been an early riser, he likes to be on the move from when he gets up, and in the good weather, he's allowed to wear shorts. All round win, far as he's concerned.

Jim returns that smile, because this one has attitude. Arthur didn't have attitude. Arthur had bad breath. Fucking Arthur.

"Well, fluorescent orange seems to be your colour. Really brings out your eyes."

“Oh, you know. Helps me stand out from the crowd, doesn't it? I get noticed everywhere I go... Mostly because people love post. Unless it's bills. But I'll take what I can get."

"Ah yes, well, people do tend to get excited over a good package."

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, but his smirk never falters.

“They certainly do. You look like you could use a little more sleep. Or at least some coffee. Sorry if I woke you.”

"Never worry about it. Perks of working from home, I can choose my own hours." He rubs the gritty sleep sand from his eyes and actually manages a proper charming smile this time.

"I'd say I'll leave you to the end of my shift, but that would mean a horrible detour, and how would I get through the whole morning without your charm and wit?"

"No, I definitely require you here. Who would turn off my alarms for me? I'd feel terribly neglected if you left me 'til last."

"And there's always the great mystery as to whether you'll be dressed or not. The anticipation would kill me."

Little huff of laughter.

"And I have no doubt the sight of me pottering around in my pants gets your day off to a great start."

"Oh, you think so?"

"How could this not?" Jim makes a vague gesture towards himself, and even though there's a hint of self-depreciation in there, it's an act, because Jim knows he is hot shit. Very sleep rumpled and soft eyed hot shit.

"Yeah, okay, fair enough. Or maybe I just linger here in the hopes that one day you'll ask me in for coffee to get me through my tough, tough day."

"Is that a hint? Would you _like_ to come in for coffee?"

“Well, that's just completely in-genuine. I feel like I'm forcing myself on you now."

"Oh please, mister postman. Your bag is so full, it must be awfully wearisome to lug it around all day on those strong shoulders. Allow yourself a moment's rest while I rustle you up a darntootin' fantastic cup of coffee, why don't ya? For me?” Pause. “Better?"

A burst of genuine laughter escapes Sebastian. “' _D_ _arntootin_ '?"

Jim shrugs one shoulder, smiling playfully. "I was caught up in the moment. So, coffee? Or are you just gonna stand at my door all day?"

“Well, how could I say no to that, eh?"

Jim pushes himself away from the door frame and heads into the flat. Very pleased that it's currently impeccably tidy. He pads into the kitchen and clicks on the kettle, before stretching the stiffness out of his spine with a pleased little moan. Sebastian follows him, slightly hesitant. He'd only been joking before, but there's still a chill in the morning air, the flat is warm, and, well, Jim actually seems quite funny. That moan makes him uncomfortable for reasons he can't comprehend, so he just shrugs it off.

“You let Arthur in to help you with your alarms and drink your coffee too, then?"

"Had I given Arthur the chance, he would have probably moved in with me and set up camp in the living room. No, no. I fought a daily battle with that man to keep him on his side of the door." As Jim speaks, he moves around the kitchen with the ease of familiarity. "How do you take it?"

"Just black, thanks."

After a moment or two, Sebastian perches himself on the edge of a kitchen chair. “Sounds like a lovely chap. Couldn't win the battle with me though, eh?”

"Maybe I wasn't trying with you." Jim smiles over his shoulder, before returning his attention to his drink making. He sits Sebastian's coffee in front of him before making himself a cup of tea, leaning back against the kitchen counter and cradling it to his chest. "Do we continue with awful puns, or do we actually have to make awkward getting-to-know-you small talk now?"

"I could probably manage a few post puns. There's a lot of thinking time with this job. Hold on.” Sebastian takes a moment to clear his throat. "Listen, just so you know, if you're ever home alone in the afternoons, I make drop-offs. And I always deliver. Just saying, if you ever want me over, there's no extra postage, and it's always first class. Oh, and I handle with care."

Jim comes quite close to spitting his tea all over Sebastian, but somehow he manages to swallow it before he laughs.

"Oh, my god! Those were terrible. Impressive. But terrible." He shakes his head with an amused sigh. "Those lines ever work for ya?"

“Haven't really used them yet,” Sebastian smiles, basking in that reaction. “But Doris gave me the seal of approval."

"Is Doris your girlfriend?" Jim pulls himself up onto the counter, swinging his legs.

“Not for lack of trying. No, she's a lovely elderly lady from two streets down that's good enough to take me in when she can."

"Oh, bless. Although it is awful of her to encourage you like that."

"Well, there are lines I spare her of, obviously. Wouldn't want to frighten the poor thing."

"Goodness no. I can only imagine."

Jim bites back a smile, hiding behind his cup. This is quite pleasant; Sebastian's rather amusing, Jim doesn't detest his company. It's strange, but not uninteresting.

"Course I'll have to keep them from you, too. Wouldn't want to make myself completely irresistible. You might embarrass yourself."

"I might embarrass myself? Do you hear the words leaving your mouth, or is your head just filled with the sound of constant applause?"

“Sorry, what was that? Couldn't hear you over all the clapping. You'll have to speak up."

"Clever. Very clever. You always this sharp, or is my presence bringing out the worst in you?"

"Nah, it's just a freak occurrence. Once in a blue moon, or whatever the saying is. I'll probably just go back to being an idiot now."

"What a shame, I was just getting into the rhythm of our witty banter. Maybe alert me a little in advance next time. I'll try and be properly awake for it."

"I think there's an app for that. Sends little alerts to your phone every time I'm about to be a smart-arse."

"I should look into that. Make myself presentable ahead of time."

"You always look presentable. Except yesterday. That was just scary."

"You flatter me." Jim runs a hand through his hair, as if only realising how dishevelled it is.

"Trust me, no horror movie has any impact after you've disturbed half of London during their morning routine. You're doing just fine."

"Oh, I have nothing against flattery. I rather enjoy it. Feel free to continue."

"Not sure I know enough about you to flatter you.” Little chuckle. "I like your flat. You make good coffee. This doing anything for you?"

"My ego is so heavy I fear I may topple." Setting his cup in the sink, Jim moves across to retrieve his package. "Let's see what they've got for me today."

He fetches a knife and slices in long, confident strokes along the tape. There's a bit of fiddling as he pulls a smaller box out and works at unwrapping it.

"Ohh, a fondue set. That's something I will definitely use all the time." Sarcasm sarcasm.

Sebastian tries not to look too interested as he sips his coffee, but he feels like he's getting a behind the scenes look now. This is what he delivers. As mundane as it is, it still perks his interest. You never know what's going to be in those little boxes.

“Not a cheese fan?”

"Not hugely, no. You can totally melt chocolate down in these though, right? I'll be twice this size by next week."

“Didn't take you as having a sweet tooth," Sebastian chuckles, and Jim glances up with a small, surprised smile.

"Why would you think that? Do I look sour or something?"

"No, not at all! I just..." Looking down with a frown. Feeling a touch foolish. Jim can't help but smile; look at the hot postman, all flustered. That's adorable. "Maybe I hadn't thought of it before. You just seemed too serious to be the kind that indulges in chocolate often."

"Serious? Is that a subtle way of calling me boring?"

“Not that subtle, was it?"

Feigned offended gasp. "You're so rude."

"Is this the part where you ask me to leave?"

"I'm not rude like you."

"I apologize sincerely, Ja- Jim."

Jim gives Sebastian a stern look. "Doris wouldn't approve of your lack of manners."

"She'd beat me with her slipper, I know." Trying a tiny twitch of his lips into a hopeful smile. "I am sorry, though. I'm not used to... Talking to people. In a normal conversation."

"That doesn't make you sound socially awkward and kind of weird at all."

"I resent the weird bit, but the socially awkward might be spot on enough. I mean, I don't exactly go out much, I don't know a lot of people off route, and Doris doesn't want to stay out past eight most nights. Unless she has her bingo on."

"You're a bit sad, aren't you?" Jim says, but his tone is playful.

Sigh. "I'd be the first to admit it, yeah."

"Poor baby." Jim grins, mocking. His empathy doesn't expand this far.

“You can save that shit for Arthur. I'm fine. I always land on my feet."

"That being said, you are welcome to skive off for a while if you ever fancy a cuppa."

"You sure about that? Quite an open invitation. What if I turned out to be like Arthur after all?"

"Then I'd just have to slip some cyanide in your coffee, hmm?"

Sebastian laughs, before finishing off his coffee. “Good. Throw a little danger in there, that'll make it less tempting for me to try and make this a regular thing.”

"Need to mix things up a bit so you don't think I'm boring."

“For the record, I only assumed you were boring before we talked."

"That means I look boring, which is almost as bad."

"I assume everyone's boring until they prove otherwise. It's not personal."

"How charming."

"Better than assuming everyone's interesting. Tried that. What a let down."

"It is quite, isn't it? Can't imagine Doris would have let you down, though."

"Nah, she's quite a few stories to tell, that one. Firecracker, she is."

"Perhaps you'll tell her hello from me."

"I'll do that.”

"Excellent. Tell her all about the boring chap who makes great coffee."

Sebastian smirks, shaking his head. “You're not boring, Jim.”

"That would be more reassuring if my confidence hadn't already been shattered. My self esteem is in ruins. However shall I go on?"

"Awh come on, after I built your ego up earlier?"

"You ruined all that work. It's a fragile thing."

"So, how do I fix it?"

Over the top sniff. "The damage is done now."

“Come on, there must be some way I can make it up to you."

"That would be up to you to work out."

Sebastian chuckles, but it quickly turns into a frown, and he looks at Jim closely. Feeling a touch awkward. “Hold on. Are you, uh... Are you-?”

“Am I?”

"Gay?"

Taking a moment to look suitably surprised. "Do I _look_ gay?"

"Are you?"

Jim folds his arms, feeling a bit sulky, since he apparently not only looks boring, but also gay. “Not entirely, no.”

"What does that mean?"

"It means gender isn't a huge factor in who I choose to bed."

That surprises a chuckle out of Sebastian, and he's even a touch impressed. "Greedy, are you?"

"It's not as though I host orgies.” Jim rolls his eyes. “I just realise there's more to a person than what's between their legs."

"That's almost sweet, you know." He clears his throat, uncertain now, treading with care, because he's beginning to wonder if all their playful banter was Jim coming on to him. "Probably rude asking you that, right?"

"Boring, gay and sweet. What a mix I am, eh? It was nosey rather than rude, but we've already acknowledged your lack of manners."

"I guess you can ask me one intrusive question before I go, then. To make things even."

A pause while Jim considers. 

“How many people have you killed, soldier?”

That takes Sebastian by surprise. He sits back, blinking several times in rapid succession. “How did you know I was in the army?”

"I know a lot of things."

"You realise how creepy that sounds, right?"

"I know a lot of things in general, not all about you, Colonel."

Sebastian rises from the table, a deep frown etched into his features. He's on guard now, suspicious. "Did you research me?"

"No." Yes. "Last Tuesday your dog tags were sitting over your shirt."

Sebastian doesn't relax, doesn't even attempt to disguise how cautious he is now. “I don't really think that's any of your business.”

“Alright then. How'd you end up here? Bit odd, a soldier working as a postman. Even if you did have a strange passion for post.”

“Not that it actually _is_ any of your business, but I'm technically retired. Try living off of an army pension in London; it's not possible. This job wasn't exactly my first choice. I've gone through a few since I got back, but it pays the bills.”

Sebastian is scowling, his posture defensive, and Jim smiles. Pleased with his anger. 

"No need to get your panties in a twist. You shouldn't have told me to ask a personal question if there were things you didn't want me to know. That wasn't very wise now, was it? Tsktsk."

"You clearly know plenty about me, anyway. You can hardly blame me for assuming you wouldn't know enough about my life to have a very intrusive question to ask."

"Never assume. That's foolishness. You should always expect the unexpected."

"You know that's an oxymoron, yeah?" Little huff of anger.

"I do." Jim's grinning widely now, properly enjoying himself.

"What else do you know about me?"

"That would be telling, and where's the fun in that?"

"Where's the fun in hiding my own secrets from me?"

"I never like to play all my cards at once. Besides, anything I know I've just observed."

Well, and just a touch of stalking.

“You know you're acting a fucking nutbag right now, yeah?"

"And you're acting like a grumpy old man. Not the most flattering of roles."

"I just want to understand _why_ you're being a creepy stalker with your fucking postman."

"I notice things about people. You're hardly worth the effort of stalking."

"So why don't you just tell me what else you've observed?"

"Because you've already thrown a right proper temper tantrum. I'd rather avoid another."

“Oh, that wasn't a temper tantrum, I promise." Sebastian gathers his bag, glaring at Jim.

"Mm yes, you've anger management issues. Further cause for me to tread carefully."

Except Jim would quite like to see Sebastian explode. That would be jolly good fun.

"I should go." Sebastian takes a moment to look Jim up and down, before he turns towards the door. "Thanks for the coffee."

Smiling like a good, innocent little host. "Oh, it was my pleasure, let me assure you."

"No assurance necessary. It's pretty obvious. I'll see myself out. Have a good day, Mr Moriarty."

Jim watches Sebastian with great amusement.

"Byeee, Bastian~" He giggles to himself when the door clicks shut. Well, that certainly livened up his morning. Now.. Fondue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's beautiful face is at risk.  
> Sebastian is totally, completely, 100% hetero. Despite all the flirting. Ignore the fact they've just arranged a man date.  
> The boys get to know each other a little better. (Also, Sebastian's number is 112. You'll understand.)

Sebastian is exceedingly thankful for each new day that comes without a parcel for Mr James Moriarty. He gets a clean run until Sunday, which is his rest day. By the time Monday morning rolls around, he has calmed down considerably, but he's still not keen when he knocks on Jim's door.

Jim's on the phone when he answers, speaking angrily in rapid Italian. Sebastian is surprised by the sudden burst of unexpected language. Jim makes a motion with his hand for Sebastian to be quiet, before holding it out for the touch pen. He signs without a pause in his conversation.

Sebastian sets the package at Jim's feet, and turns to leave, thankful that he doesn't have to speak to him. Italian, though. How random. Seems Jim really does know a lot of things.

*

He's wearing red lipstick.

Sebastian is so baffled by this, that half a minute passes before he speaks. He just stands, staring at Jim, who is looking back expectantly (secretly loving this reaction), until he realises and forces his mouth to move.

"They have you test make-up, too?"

"I have to test all kinds of crap."

"How would you even know what makes lipstick good?"

"How long it stays on. If the colour fades, and if it's the same as it says. If it dries up my lips. It's not rocket science."

Sebastian scrunches up his face. Must be a gay thing. During their conversation, they go through the usual routine; scan barcode, tap signature pad, sign, hand parcel, job done.

"Sounds like heaps of fun."

"I'd say making easy money is pretty fun, yeah." Jim smiles, wide and outlined in red.

"It just looks really, really weird. Sorry." Sebastian takes a step back. There's no way he's going to be able to take Jim seriously enough to hold a real conversation, not while he's distracted by the vibrant red of his lips.

"Not like I'm going out in it." Jim rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug.

"You might have won 'weirdest doorstep encounter' today."

"Goody me. Do I get a prize?"

“It's more about the pride of winning than the prize."

"Of course. I'm very proud." Jim touches his chest, inhaling in a show of emotion, which earns him a sharp exhale of amusement from Sebastian.

"I'll leave you to that. Arrivederci."

Jim gives Sebastian a small wave as he goes, counting today as a victory, as Sebastian is speaking to him again.

*

He's fresh from the shower again the next time Sebastian knocks, but he hadn't been expecting this parcel to arrive until the next day. Sebastian's eyes flick up from tapping at his signature pad, and he clears his throat at the sight.

“That's one for not dressed. I'll add it to the tally."

"I was hoping we wouldn't make this a frequent occurrence." Not that Jim actually really minds. He fiddles with his towel, taking a moment to tie it, leaving his hands free to sign.

“Nothing I haven't seen before, is it?"

Jim smiles in a way that is far too suggestive for that innocent comment.

"Nonetheless."

"I'm just glad you grabbed a towel."

"I'm not quite that careless."

"And I am very grateful."

"I live to please."

Sebastian gives a little nod, and Jim flashes him a charming smile. There is a beat of silence between them, stretching until Sebastian clears his throat.

"Arthur's dead.”

"Oh no," Jim says, but he's cheering internally. Oh _yes_.

"Do you care?"

"It's always sad to hear someone has passed."

"Well, I'm supposed to tell everyone on his old route, in case they want to come to the funeral."

"Not quite that sad." Couldn't escape him in life, not perusing him in death.

“Very compassionate,” Sebastian says, giving a small nod.

"I'll be sure to light a candle for him."

"Candles aren't going to do shit for him now."

"And neither is sitting in a cold church listening to his relatives cry.”

"I'm only going to win points back with the other posties." Shrug. "You got anything in your trick bag that can make it look like I'm crying?"

"Poking yourself in the eye with mascara is pretty effective." Not that Jim has ever done that, but the comment earns him a genuine smile from Sebastian.

“Might just have to try stabbing myself in the thigh with a pin, then."

"I would have thought your pain threshold was more than that."

“Don't have many options here. I might come out looking like a sponge, but if it works, it'll be worth it."

"Perhaps a pretty garland would make a better impact?"

“Eh?"

"Flowers, darling."

"Ah, right. Yeah... but crying is free."

"That's rather the point."

"I can't just throw away money on flowers that'll die quick, on a dead guy I never even met, just to get the guys at work to stop giving me the hairy eyeball."

"Good luck with your waterworks, then."

“Yeah, thanks. Good luck with whatever they sent you today."

"T'anks."

*

“Jesus Christ.” Sebastian automatically takes a step back, almost dropping the parcels as he falls into an attack stance. It takes him a moment to realise it's only Jim. He rolls his eyes, inhaling deeply. “You near gave me a heart attack. The fuck is on your face?”

"It's a strawberries and cream, deep cleanse, ex-foliating and moisturising face mask. Burns like a bitch, but I still have ten minutes to go."

“You know, if it's burning you should probably take it off,” says Sebastian, frowning.

"It is a heat mask, but I'm not sure how hot it's meant to be. Not a fan of these. Last one brought me out in a rash. Couldn't go out for almost a week."

"Jesus Christ. What if it takes a whole layer of your face off? Can you sue?"

"Part of the job risks."

"Hope you aren't dressed like the phantom next time I knock at your door, then."

"Will you sing for me if I am?"

"You don't want to hear me sing."

"That bad?"

"Wouldn't want you to be deaf as well as ugly."

"Might as well just off myself, in that situation. Spare the world."

"Maybe better than living in the rafters."

"But then there would have been no story, hm? The best ones are built on tragedy."

"You'd only be a copy cat if you did that, though. You're more original than that, aren't you?"

"Maybe I'm just a side character. Maybe Arthur was the main. How was the funeral, by the way?"

Sebastian crinkles his nose in distaste, before signing heavily.

"Not great,” he says.

"You sound thrilled."

"It was a funeral."

"The social gatherings of the year in Ireland. Funerals and wakes."

“Are they?"

"Oh yes. You wanna see the over fifties get excited? You go to a wake."

"Well, apparently it doesn't work that way in England. All very morbid."

"How dull. Did you cr- fuck. Jesus Christ. Gimme- one sec."

Jim abandons Sebastian by the door, and he wonders for a bit if he should just leave. He awkwardly hovers until Jim returns several minutes later, rubbing at his (now mostly face mask free) face with a damp wash cloth. Sebastian tilts his head, frowning.

“Your skin is looking awful red there.”

"Ugh it's stinging like hell. Maybe I should have given you some of this stuff." Jim pats tenderly at his cheek. This is worse than the hair dryer disaster. His beautiful face! Sebastian watches him, eyes crinkled in thought, scratching his own cheek.

"Do you have aloe vera or something?"

"… No! Not exactly something I keep in stock."

"For all the weird beauty shit, and you don't even have aloe vera?"

"I don't always have to test this kind of thing."

Sebastian shakes his head with a chuckle, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

"I have a plant at my flat,” he says.

"Well, aren't you prepared."

"Doris gave me a clipping of one of hers when I cut myself shaving."

"Doris knows her stuff,” Jim says, still attempting to rub the last drops of acid from his face. Sebastian licks his lips absently as he watches.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't suppose there is. Tell me I'm still pretty?"

"You're still very pretty."

"Well then, I suppose I can live to see another day."

"You should put something on it though. Something natural?"

"I can't very well let myself be seen like this, can I?"

Sebastian tips his head to one side, and Jim can see the conflict in his face. The internal debate of 'will I, won't I?' 'Will I' wins out.

“I could get you something after I finish my route, I guess?”

"I wouldn't want to put you out,” Jim says, but he does, he really does. His face is aching, and besides, he deserves to be spoiled.

"It's fine.” Sebastian shrugs, feigning indifference. “We both know I have nothing better to do."

"Well I would appreciate it. Thank you." Mostly because his face hurts like a bitch, but it's nice having someone do things for him as well. Jim likes that. He likes the idea of having a man slave. Is that why people have relationships? Hm. Perhaps. He should have been born Egyptian royalty.

Sebastian gives him an affirmative nod, like he's just received an order; automatic, habit. He quickly realises what he's doing and stills, clearing his throat, starting to turn away.

"I'll try and not take too long. See you in a few hours."

"You're a sweetheart."

Jim gives a little smile as he slips the door shut.

*

Sebastian finishes his route as quickly as he can. He only stays a few minutes with Doris, and kindly refuses any offers elsewhere for him to come in for this or that. It's a perk of the job he didn't expect, but adores. Although, it is mostly old ladies and young men; must be his pretty face or tight butt.

Once he's turned his van in, he pops home for a quick change into casual clothes; old jeans, and an ugly flannel shirt over a vest top. He also takes a clipping from his aloe vera; unaware of how quickly it will probably die under Jim's supervision. He stops at the chemist on his way back, looking for... Well, anything. Grabbing a few creams that look like they might help. It's not long after that he's knocking on Jim's door again.

Jim's had various cold things pressed against his face all day, because instead of clearing up, the burning has remained steady to worse. He's written up the worst possible review, and made sure the product won't go through to selling (much as he'd love others to suffer this). He's quite relieved when Sebastian finally shows up, and looking significantly more blotchy and swollen.

"Please tell me you have something that actually works."

Sebastian tilts his head, trying not to let pity seep into his expression, holding up a little bag of things.

“I've got plenty of things worth trying.”

“Gimme.” Jim grabs the bag, emptying it across the kitchen counter. “That one's useless. I've had to try it before. Smells nice, but does nothing.”

Sebastian tentatively follows Jim inside, raising an eyebrow at those comments. Wow, okay, rude. He spent his hard earned wages on that bag of wank. He sighs, producing the clipping of his plant.

“I brought this as well.”

“Aw bless, that's from yours?” Jim asks, opening and sniffing at different creams. He dabs one of them on his face, moaning quietly at the coolness. His skin is tender to touch, but he puts a proper dollop on anyway, gently spreading it out.

“Yeah, well. Was Doris' baby before. That helping?”

“Not sure yet. Feels nice, though.” Jim smears more on his face. Oh, yes, gratitude. People expect that. “T'anks for... this.”

“S'ok.” Sebastian nods, a little half smile playing at the corner of his lips before he licks it away. “Should I leave you to it then?”

“Or you could- Coffee? You'll have to make it yourself, I'm a bit...” Jim displays his white fingers. “Covered.”

“Sure, long as you're not just trying to be polite or whatever. I wouldn't mind if you kicked me out.”

“No no, if I was being polite, I'd sound like this: Oh, you're leaving? So soon? Oh no. Do stay. Have a coffee.” He grins, dropping the forced, polite way he'd been speaking through gritted teeth. “I can't really go out, you don't do much anyway, what else are we going to be at?”

Sebastian laughs, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, alright then.” He moves around the kitchen with an odd familiarity, born from watching Jim so closely the last time he was here. “You want me to make you anything while I'm here?”

“Tea. Milk. Three sugars,” Jim calls over his shoulder, disappearing down the hall to the bathroom. He smooths out the cream on his face, then washes the excess off of his hands. He looks no less ridiculous upon his return, but at least his hands are clean.

“Milk, three sugars,” Sebastian repeats, order confirmation, holding out a mug for Jim.

“Good boy.” Jim leads the way to the living room and settles himself on the couch, Sebastian following behind him.

“I'm, eh... Not a dog.” He hesitantly sits on the couch, leaving a significant space between himself and Jim.

“Take it as a compliment.” We both know you thrive on praise. Jim props his back against the arm of the couch so he's facing Sebastian, legs folded. “So how was work, honey?”

“Hectic.” Sebastian grins at him. “I'm guessing that face mask didn't get a glowing review?”

“Oh no, I love having my skin burned off. I gave it five stars and a smiley face.”

“Shame you can't sue. You'd make a fortune.”

“That's why I have to test them. Stop it happening to people who can sue.”

“Much more hazardous job that I thought originally.”

“The danger is what drew me to it.”

“Oh? You're attracted to danger, are you?”

“Couldn't you tell? Exploding hair dryers. Acid face masks. I live for the thrill.”

“Well, it does sound like much more fun than the perilous life of a postman.”

"You must know all about danger. Fierce terriers. Rusty gates. The like."

"Oh yeah, I'm a regular knight of the round table. Fighting off fire breathing dogs to get you your post."

"Thank you, fair knight! Hero of the modern world."

"Though I don't think either of us would manage a profession swap, do you?"

"I'm not really a fan of working with people."

"I'm not really a fan of rubbing acid on my face."

"Might be an improvement."

"Harsh as that sounds, I know it's not true. I'll just have to take it as jealousy that my face is perfect, and the outlook of yours is uncertain."

"That's a sensitive subject at the moment. Shouldn't you be reassuring me?"

"That's not really my job. You should have asked Doris round if you wanted a shoulder to cry on."

"Would Doris approve of me?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

Jim blinks slowly, languidly, then takes a sip of his tea and shrugs.

“Right.” Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Whatever that means."

"It was only a question."

"Just asking what you meant by it."

"I'm sure there are plenty of things to disapprove of. I'm a bad influence on her sweet little postman."

“There are plenty of things that could be a bad influence on me, you are definitely not one."

"Maybe I'm just warming you up to me, then I could drag you into an underworld of hard drugs, gay sex, and fondue."

"You're bisexual, I like fondue and... Do you even do 'hard drugs'?"

"You never know what could be in the next box." Jim hides his giggle behind his mug, and that wins Sebastian over, causes him to chuckle along.

"I'm not an easy guy to influence."

Jim looks at him, those dark eyes giving nothing away. There is a lull between them; a half minute where Jim is content to drink his tea in silence, feeling no need to force further conversation. Sebastian lets it linger, before eventually breaking it with a hum.

“What did you get today?”

“Do you really want to know?” Jim asks, eyebrows raised.

“Sort of.” Sebastian shrugs. “Like being nosey, don't I?”

Jim rolls his lower lip between his teeth, before giving in.

"You had your chance to back out,” he says, sitting his mug down and crossing to the kitchen, retrieving a small bottle from the cupboard. As he moves back to the living room, he tosses the bottle to Sebastian, who catches it easily, blinking down at it. It is lube. Tingle lube.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Hoping it doesn't end up the same as the face stuff.”

“Jesus, yeah. You'd have to pay me pretty fucking well to risk my dick for this.”

"I'll have to do a test on the back of my hand first. Actually-" Jim takes the bottle back and pops the cap, squeezing some onto the back of his hand. "May as well do that now."

"And you couldn't have done that with the face mask?"

"I did. It only seems to burn in large quantities."

Dropping back onto his space on the couch, Jim rubs the lube into the back of his hand, making sure it covers a broad enough area that any effects will be noticeable. Sebastian observes, lips pursed.

"You going to find some poor, unsuspecting individual to use that with, or just... Go solo, then?" Did he really just ask that? He did. Jim blinks up at Sebastian as if he is really surprised at that question.

"Solo was the plan," he says eventually, slowly.

“Yeah, makes sense.” Sebastian nods his head, casual, playing it cool. “Guess if something did go wrong the other person could become a problem."

"Yeah. Might have to chain them to my bed until it all blew over."

Awkward chuckle from Sebastian.

"You regret asking what it was now?" Jim asks.

“Not overly. It's just a job, eh?"

"Yeah."

"Feel anything?"

"Not particularly. Hmm."

"Shouldn't it... Tingle at least?"

"You would expect."

"That's disappointing."

"Perhaps it only works on certain areas. Or with friction." Jim rubs his fingers back and forth over the back of his hand, trying to build up friction.

“Maybe, yeah.” Sebastian swallows, eyes following the movement of Jim's fingers. “As long as you don't have any adverse reactions, I guess you can try it elsewhere.”

"I'll leave it on for an hour or so and see how it fairs." Jim wipes the excess lube from his fingers on his wrist.

"Good plan. How's your face feeling?"

"Mmm. Lil bit better. The stinging has stopped, at least,"

“That's good. Glad I could find _something_ useful for you, at least."

"I'll give the others a go tomorrow."

"I'm sure it'll calm down quick enough."

"One can only hope."

"If not, maybe they'll send you a load of concealer next."

"Concealer would make it worse. It needs air to heal."

"You would know."

"Which is why I'm telling you."

"And now I know."

"See? Now it's an educational visit."

"Well, if I ever have to wear make up - and I sincerely hope I won't - now I'll know."

"Small touch of liner might bring out your eyes." Jim smirks.

"I'm fine with where they are now."

"I'm sure Doris and I could remake you."

"Doris has lipstick all over her teeth."

"And you've never thought to tell her?"

"I usually lick it off for her." Sebastian tries to hold back his smile for as long as possible, but eventually it breaks through. Jim laughs, pressing knuckles to the corner of his mouth to try and disguise his giggles.

"Lucky lady,” he says.

"What can I say? Can't keep my hands off her. She brings out the bad little postman in me."

"I'm surprised you didn't fit at least three post puns into that."

"The shame of it is I've got at least two that would only work if I was flirting with a guy."

"Have I heard them before?"

"Ahm... No, actually."

"Ohh, new material! Go on, then. Hit me."

"Are you sure? They might make me irresistible to you."

"I'm willing to take that risk."

"Alright." Sebastian clears his throat, leaning forward, closer to Jim. Here comes the smoulder, and he'll slide into his nice, deep, seductive voice. "Just to let you know, I can make deliveries through the back door... And I'm used to handling large packages."

Sebastian has gone full seduction; making his eyes lidded, dropping his gaze momentarily to Jim's lips. Jim stares him down, stoic and silent, for a good handful of seconds before he speaks.

"I think my hand just tingled."

Sebastian loses it, composure crumbling to a burst of laughter. He leans back against the couch, not able to reply until his laughter dies down, and even then, his tone is laced with amusement.

“All it takes is the right stimulation.”

"I'll have to softly whisper post puns to myself later, then."

"I'd offer my services, but delivering beautiful one-liners isn't in my job description. Though if I did, they'd be first class."

“It just never ends, does it?” Jim asks, slapping Sebastian on the arm. “What have I done? I encouraged this."

"That's what you get when you invite a postie in."

"I've learned from my mistakes. And what a hard lesson it has been." Jim grins, folding his legs up under himself again as Sebastian absently rubs at his arm.

“Too late to go back now, eh?" Sebastian says, grinning.

"Damn, is it?"

"Short of poisoning the coffee, yeah, but I'd hope you wouldn't want to do that."

"You made your own coffee, so.."

"So, I'm safe for now?"

"For now.”

"I really doubt you'll ever kill me."

"Mm. You're not worth going to prison for." Except Jim could make it look like an accident.

"I feel like I shouldn't be offended by that, and yet I am."

"Sorry darlin'." Not.

Sebastian sighs, finishing off his coffee in silence, before he turns to Jim again.

“So, apart from rubbing various mysterious creams on yourself, what do you actually do for fun, or whatever?”

"I like to read," Jim says, after a slight pause where he tries to work out what other hobbies he has besides building his crime empire. Can't really tell the postman about that one. "Boring as that sounds."

"Been finding it hard to fill up my time after I clock out. Was thinking about taking on a second job, but I've gone through enough of those before the post gig, I wouldn't know what to do."

"What do you do for fun, then?"

“Nothing all that interesting. Running, reading, shooting sometimes. Tried my hand at writing, don't think that went too well. I'd travel if I had the money. All else fails, the pub."

"Ah. The pub. The golden retreat." Jim grins and pulls one knee up to his chest, propping his chin on it. "Still no girlfriend, then?"

“No.” Sebastian shakes his head with a snort. “Girlfriends aren't really my style."

"No?"

“Too much hassle. Don't like having to consider other people every time I do something."

"Because you do so many things."

"You're as bad as Doris. What's your excuse, then?"

"I'm very difficult to put up with." And I'm kind of a psychopath. Surprise!

“You don't seem any worse than me."

"You haven't known me that long."

"Yeah well, usually the bad qualities present early enough."

"I'm putting terrible puns down as one of yours."

“They're not terrible!” Sebastian exclaims, with a feigned gasp of shock.

"They kind of are."

"Yeah but, there are no good puns. So by typical pun standard they're great, even if puns are generally terrible."

"You keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you'll even begin to believe it."

"Go on then. Tell me a great pun."

"You are not bringing me down to your level."

"You must know at least one."

"I'm having no part in this."

"Well then. You're wrong. There is no such thing as puns being great, but as far as puns go, mine are fantastic. Thank you for conceding."

Jim knows he is not wrong, because he is never wrong, but he is not going to be manipulated into playing Sebastian's pun game. No. That's no pun. No!

"If you insist."

"Such a graceful loser. The Americans could learn a thing or two from you."

"Graceful. That's me all over." Jim smiles in a pleasant kind of way, but his eyes are dark, and Sebastian keeps pushing, just to see what happens.

“So, how does it feel to be wrong? Must hurt. I wouldn't know, I'm always right.”

"Is the real reason you can't keep a girlfriend the fact that you're actually a young child?"

"Ohh, being a loser must really _sting_. You're starting to lash out with your little kitten claws."

Jim raises an eyebrow, not even dignifying that with a response.

"Nothing to say? Really?" Sebastian grins, big and wide, bumping Jim's shoulder with his own.

"Are you quite finished?"

“Yeah, alright."

"You're certain?"

"Pretty sure."

"Good."

"I'm only playing with you."

"Poisoned coffee is beginning to sound more and more appealing."

"Lighten up."

"Am I boring you?"

“No. Told you; you're not boring, but if that's your way of asking me to leave, you'd be better off being blunt."

"And I told you if I wanted you to leave I'd have no trouble telling you."

"Just making sure."

"Rest assured, if I wanted you gone you would not be here."

“So you want me here. Aww."

"Don't say that like you're clever. I literally just said it."

"Just saying that's really cute. Or maybe, actually, sad."

"Hey." Jim gives Sebastian's thigh a light kick. "You're the sad one here."

"Why am I the sad one?"

"We both know the answer to that."

"You know, you're pretty much in the same boat."

"How exactly?"

"You're single, living alone, barely leave the house. Your only hobby is reading, apparently, and you're so lonely and have so little to do that you have to ask your postman to hang out."

"Excuse you, but I leave my house on a daily basis. You only see me in the mornings. You have no evidence to support that kind of assumption. I _educate_ myself, and you're the one that offered to come around, actually. You sort of invited yourself." Jim pulls a face and gives Sebastian another little kick.

"I was happy to drop some stuff over for you and leave, you invited me to stay."

"Would you rather I told you to piss off?"

“Don't get all defensive.” Sebastian catches Jim's ankle, chuckling. “I'm just saying."

"I wasn't getting defensive."

"You kinda were."

"I'm not defensive."

"You're literally getting defensive right now."

"My tone couldn't be any more neutral."

"Must be the accent."

"Shall I talk like you then?" Jim asks, slipping easily into an imitation of Sebastian's own accent, prompting him to snort.

“Sounds bad on me, but it sounds even worse on you."

"I think I'm going to keep it."

"Jesus, that is just not appealing at all."

"This is how I speak now."

"Fuck. No. Come on. Your accent is far better."

"But this is my accent, Sebastian."

"It defeats the purpose; everything sounds defensive and deadpan like that."

"Oh weeeeeell."

"I've never actually realised how annoying I sound until now."

"Now you know what I have to put up with."

"I'm actually really, very sorry."

"You will be. Give it another week."

"I'd do a less annoying accent to make up for it, but I'm pretty rubbish at those."

Jim drops his accent promptly.

"Poor baby."

“Thank Christ for that."

"Now you know not to mock the way I speak.”

"I wasn't mocking you.”

"Good. Don't.”

"Right, whatever."

"Aw, grumpyguts."

"I'm not grumpy."

"Mmmmhmmm."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm agreeing. You're a delightful ray of sunshine."

"Ha, and you're much different?"

"I'm delightful company!"

"Oh yeah, definitely are. For sure."

"I did warn you."

“Did you?” Sebastian sighs, flopping back against the couch. “I mustn't have listened."

"People can't put up with me." Jim smiles, sad around the eyes, playing it up. It doesn't take long for Sebastian to give in to those puppy dog eyes.

"That's not what's happening. You're a pretty interesting guy, Jim. I wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't think that."

"Oh, I never said I wasn't interesting. I can be interesting and difficult to put up with. The two traits aren't opposing."

“Fine. You're not so bad. I've put up with worse."

"Perhaps I'm just behaving myself,” Jim says, quirking an eyebrow.

"Can't imagine what you'd be like if you weren't, but judging by the theme of most our conversations, I'm not worth the act."

Jim just smiles and shrugs, mirroring the way Sebastian is always shrugging. Sebastian gives him a little nod, uneasy, suddenly unsure of what else there is for him to say. He falls silent, glancing at various things around the room. Jim lets the silence linger, if only to appreciate Sebastian's discomfort. Eventually, he shifts a little closer and bumps their shoulders together. Casual, casual contact, that still causes Sebastian to frown.

"Tell me about the army."

"Stick on a Hanks/Spielberg film, it's pretty much the same deal."

Jim sighs, all over dramatic and drawn out, until Sebastian gives in just to make him stop.

"Are you only asking because you only know that I was in the army and that I'm a postal worker now, and this job is pretty self explanatory?"

"I'm asking because the the army seems a lot more interesting than delivering post."

Jim doesn't want to hear about boring postman business. He wants to hear about death and destruction! He'd also like verification that Sebastian is a sniper, as that's an educated guess on his part, and he can't know for sure.

"Fine.” Sebastian sighs, rubbing his neck, and it is clear how uncomfortable he is. “Uhm, I was in the regular army, not the TA. I spent a few years as an infantry soldier until I ranked up a bit, and then I chose to specialize as a Sniper. And as you rightly observed, I was gradually promoted to colonel, which was my exiting rank when I finished my service."

Dingdingding. He was correct then. Point to Jim. He takes a moment to appreciate his own cleverness. God, I love myself. Outwardly, he hums to show he's been listening.

"Do you have any cool scars?" Boundaries? What boundaries? Social conventions? Ha, Jim Moriarty is above them.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. Any time he's heard that question, it's been from the odd soldier, or a dumb bint. He wonders which category Jim comes under. Probably neither. Doesn't know that Jim is kind of hoping he'll remove his shirt; that would probably push him closer to the bints.

"Ehh, one or two, I guess."

"At least you came back in one piece." Such tact.

“What's the line? Eh... It was an honour to serve my country."

"No one really believes that nonsense. You do it for the money or the thrill. Which were you, colonel?"

"Uh, actually my reasons changed as things went on. Started out without a choice. I stayed for the money, and as my circumstances changed, I just enjoyed the uh... thrill, as you put it."

Ohh, a little soldier of many colours. Jim rests his head against the back of the couch, looking at Sebastian with renewed interest. Sebastian looks back at him, curious.

“See something you like?”

"What if I did?" Jim bites his lower lip, and Sebastian immediately diverts his eyes with an awkward laugh.

“Well, I hope you like me. Wouldn't want you to have to entertain someone you hate." Cringe. Abort.

"Am I entertaining you?” Jim watches Sebastian's awkward panic with delight. “I rather thought it was the other way round."

"Only that it's your place and I'm your guest."

"Yes, well, that has a touch to do with the abomination that is currently my face."

"So you wouldn't ask me in otherwise? That's nice. Got more interesting people to socialize with?"

"Don't be foolish, I'm merely indicating that my options were limited. Although, I probably do." I totally have friends. Lots of friends. Smart friends. Criminal friends. _Friends_ being a very loose term.

"I'd be offended, but I can't say I'd expect your only acquaintance to be your postman."

"Mmmyes, my attention is a little more divided than that."

"But no one would blame you for trading everyone else in for my exclusive company."

That gets a laugh from Jim.

"Oh no, of course not," he says.

"My company is much sought after."

"Ah yes, Doris and I will soon have to fight off the hordes."

"You joke, but it's so true. Everybody loves me."

"I'm not joking. I'm 100% serious. Going to invest in a crowbar to beat them off."

"That your weapon of choice, is it?" Sebastian asks, flashing Jim a genuine smile.

"Yes. I think I'd look quite fierce wielding a crowbar."

"Well, I know what I hope's in your next package."

"I don't get anything so exciting, unfortunately."

"That lube the most interesting thing you've gotten yet?"

"Mm. Mostly it's household items. I got massage oils once, but they're not the easiest things to test alone."

“Yeah no, that doesn't sound fun. Not have any friends with big strong hands to help?" Sebastian wiggles his hands out in front of him. Jim purses his lips and looks at him for a silent few seconds before shaking his head.

"No, none willing."

"Shame I wasn't around, then. Had a name for myself as a master masseuse back in the day,” Sebastian says, before pulling a face. "I mean, I was also known for being a killer shot, and not someone to mess with at poker, and other really manly things... Yeah, I'm just going to shut up."

"Well, if I ever need assistance again, I know who to ask, don't I? With shooting, poker, and massages."

"Yeah... Those would be my only talents right there."

"Aw, you're not entirely useless." Jim gives him a little pat on the arm, starting the slow process of getting Sebastian used to his touch. "There's always a future career path if you tire of the postal service."

“As what?"

“As a masseuse, duh."

"Couldn't I do something with guns or cards instead?"

"You'd look rather dashing in a magician's costume."

“Not those kinds of cards," says Sebastian, wrinkling his nose.

"Have you considered working for Hallmark?"

"You are hilarious."

"I'm comedy gold. You're so lucky to know me."

"I have to pinch myself every day to make sure I'm not dreaming."

Jim pinches Sebastian. Quite hard. He hisses, automatically raising a hand to defend himself, but stopping before he actually touches Jim. Jim looks up at him, grinning, because he doesn't miss the way Sebastian stops himself from lashing out.

"Yeah thanks, I'm pretty capable of doing that myself,” Sebastian says with a deep scowl.

"Just double checking. Not that your brain could ever supply someone as incredible as me."

“Well, that must be true."

"Oh, it is." Cocky little head toss from Jim.

"Shame. This would have made a great modern fight club."

"Maybe you're a figment of MY imagination."

"Why would you dream up a lame postman? Just to make you feel better about yourself?"

"True. If I were to dream you up, I'd have made you hotter." Ziiiing.

"As if that's possible. I'd only look better in a better uniform, let's be honest."

"Mm no, there could definitely be some improvements." Jim hums thoughtfully, then gives a serious nod.

Sebastian frowns, appalled.

"Like what?"

"Hmm, well, you'd have a decent haircut, for one."

“What's wrong with my hair?" Sebastian asks, running a hand through it.

"Oh honey, what isn't?"

"Maybe I'll just shave it off.” Sebastian slumps back into his seat.

"That's better than the scruffy unkempt look you are currently working. You passed handsomely dishevelled about a month ago. You'd think with all your free time you could fit in a trim somewhere." Pause. "I'd also give you a tighter arse."

Sebastian is just gearing himself up to respond to those hair comments, when he chokes on his words.

“A uh... What you... You checked out my arse?” Ah, yes, that's the question he's putting out there. Well done, Sebastian.

"I catch a glimpse every so often. Oh, don't look so startled, I'm not planning on jumping you. It's just casual observation. Are you telling me you don't casually check people out?"

People. Not women. People.

"I guess I uh... Sometimes, yeah." Well. Sebastian tilts his head, eyebrows rising, and, yeah, okay. Jim has a point there. He does. Quite a fucking lot. No point in denying that. Then he frowns. “Why would you wish I had a tighter arse if you don't plan on jumping me?”

"We're talking about if I made you up, darling. Do at least try and not get lost in your gay panic. In that case, I'd have given you a tighter arse. And a taste in fashion."

“This isn't gay panic," Sebastian says, looking disgusted at the thought.

"You're panicking about my gayness. That's gay induced panic, at least."

"I'm not panicking. No panic here. I'm neutral."

"Okay. Neutral and badly dressed, with an ugly haircut and a saggy ass." Jim flashes Sebastian his most charming smile.

"I don't have a saggy arse, do I?" Sebastian asks, and there's actually a trace of hurt in his tone. He's gonna obsessively blast his glutes for the next few weeks.

"I suppose it's not terrible, for a man of your age."

"A man of my-- a man of my... What age do you think I am, exactly?" Danger danger abort.

"Hmmm." Jim narrows his eyes and examines Sebastian closely. "Mid 30s? You look a bit older, but I'd guess the army put years on you."

“Thirty four,” Sebastian grits out, jaw set. Jim is such an asshole. Especially because he's right, and Sebastian hates to admit that. Jim's adoring this, and it's this kind of behaviour that is the reason he has no friends.

"Yeah well, at your age some people just start to let themselves go, y'know? Give it a few years and you'll have the beginnings of a beer belly," he says.

"As fucking if I will. I'm going to age like a fine wine, and I'll still be ship shape when my heart stops, so you can shut the fuck up. What age are you supposed to be anyway? You can't be that much younger."

"Twenty six." Jim accompanies this answer with smug laughter.

"Yeah well, good luck. Once you hit thirty you're going to be feeling all of your sugary tea and chocolate fondue."

"I'm cute with a winning personality. I don't need to be in tip top shape. People will find my softness endearing."

“What about you is soft or cute? And your 'winning personality' better invest in a treadmill soon."

"I have been reliably informed that I am adorable." By myself.

"I'd like to meet whoever told you that."

You already have.

"Well, if I'm not adorable it's because I'm devilishly handsome."

"Have you looked in a mirror today?"

"We all have bad days."

"Let me know when you have a good day."

"You can be as mean as you like, it's not going to make up for your saggy butt."

"Yeah well, I can cut my hair, I can work on my arse. But you can't change your personality."

"True, but I enjoy it, and that's what really matters."

"If you say so."

"If you're so against it then why are you still here?" Jim asks.

“That's a good question. I wish I knew the answer."

"You do know where the door is."

"I said before, I think you're interesting and I've dealt with worse."

"Well then, stop complaining."

“Sir, yessir."

"Good." Jim flops back against the couch, and Sebastian smiles at him absently.

“I can't get a read on you at all,” he says.

"In what way?"

"Your personality; what you say or do. It flickers so much. I don't really know."

"I'm changeable." Jim shrugs. "Depends what mood you get me in."

"What mood is this?"

"Mmm." Jim closes his eyes, considering. "Relaxed, I suppose."

"Should you really be dropping your guard around a stranger?"

Jim raises an eyebrow. Sebastian fetched him face cream like an eager puppy, he doubts there's any threat. But he humours him.

"Are you planning something?"

"Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

"I'll worry when you make a move then."

“Yeah, alright."

"Maybe I'm planning something."

"Apart from the coffee?"

"Back up plans."

"That's a bit boring."

"It never hurts to be prepared."

"No, I mean. You have the most dangerous marksman in the country on your couch and you just want to kill him."

"Well, someone's certainly self assured."

"It's fine. It's true."

"Are you offering to shoot things for me? I thought you'd given that up for the thrilling post life."

"For the right price, I'd always be willing to slip out of retirement," says Sebastian, and he's chuckling like he's joking, but he'd take up an offer in a heartbeat. He can barely afford his flat, and he misses good hearty meals. The postman gig isn't the worst he's had; but he's just about scraping by on it.

"I burn my face off for a living. You think I could afford you?" But he could, given time.

"I thought that was why you were putting effort into forming a friendship."

"Do you think there's people I want dead?" Everyone. Literally everyone.

"I'm sure you don't go out enough to have enemies.” Sebastian smiles, shaking his head. “But then you have angry phone calls in fluent Italian, so what would I know?"

"Suppliers." Jim gives a small smile. You don't have to know what they're supplying. "The only person I can think of now is whoever invented that face mask."

"Shame I'm a shooter and not a researcher, eh?"

"Maybe you can show me some time. Not on a person, obviously, but y'know. Let me judge if you're as good as you say you are."

"You're welcome to come to the shooting range with me some time."  
Wait. Is this a man date? Are they arranging a man date right now?

“I'd like that,” Jim says with a smile.

Definitely a man date. Shit.

"Just, uhm, let me know when you're free, and your face is normal, and I'll take you up."

"Might be a few days." Jim frowns, touching his tender cheek.

“There's no rush.”

"Cool." Jim gives him a pleased smile, excited to see his hot postman shooting stuff.

"Again, you might want to prepare yourself, because this will definitely make you fall for me. Just FYI."

"It's okay, I'll just look at you to remind myself I don't wanna be involved with that."

Except they're going on a man date.

“Yeah.” Sebastian snorts. “You keep telling yourself that.”

"I don't have to tell myself, you are a walking reminder."

"And once I get a haircut and tight buns?"

"I'm not sure I could be associated with someone who dresses like they live in an American trailer park."

"A shirt and jeans. Awh yeah. I must be fucking my sister."

"Do you have a sister?" Jim abandons their banter for a moment, curiosity stirred.

“Nah.” Sebastian shakes his head. “Well... I have a half sister, funny enough. Never met her.”

"That you know of. Maybe you have fucked her."

"She's significantly younger than me. I know that much."

"Oh weeeeell, that's slightly redeeming, at least."

"Fairly certain all of my siblings are under the age of twelve."

"All of them?"

"Ah, yeah. One brother, two half brothers, and a half sister."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, it was something, what?"

"It was a noise, it wasn't anything."

Sebastian looks at him closely, before dropping it.

“You have any brothers or sisters?”

"Nope. Just me."

“Can't say it's much fun being an only child, eh?"

"I'm also an orphan. So it's literally just me."

“Shit.” Sebastian blinks, taken aback. Hadn't expected that one. “That sounds hard. Were you young when they died?”

"Eighteen. Not that young."

"Sorry for your loss." That's what you're supposed to say, right?

"People die.” Jim shrugs. “Life goes on."

"That's the sum of it."

"Rather them than me."

"The weak are meat and the strong do eat."

"Right."

"I think if you allow yourself to get killed, you deserve it."

"Not that there's much you can do against a fire."

“Yeah, I guess." Sebastian would find a way. Self preservation. "How did you survive?"

"Wasn't in when it happened."

“That's lucky."

"Yeah, well."

Jim gives a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck. He watches Sebastian, looking as pitiful as he can manage. That way Sebastian will want to look after him. Step one of his man slave plan. Sebastian stares back at him, chewing on his lip.

“Want me to make you another cup of tea or something?” he asks eventually.

Wow. The man slave plan is actually working. Not that Jim's surprised. His plans always work. Except for that one time.. But no. Leave failure in the past.

“That would be lovely,” Jim says, giving Sebastian a soft, sweet smile, and if it weren't for the current disastrous state of his face, he'd look quite adorable.

Sebastian collects their mugs, and makes his way through to a kitchen he is already learning his way around. He clicks on the kettle, washes and dries their cups, and then goes about making fresh tea. Just as the kettle boils, Jim's head pops up over the back of the couch.

“There's biscuits in the cupboard,” he says, pointing. Silently requesting.

Sebastian nods acknowledgement, and once he's done with the tea, he'll find a plate and put out some of those biscuits. He thinks he's being helpful, unaware of how Jim's manipulating him already. He brings everything through to the living room when he's done, setting the biscuits down and handing Jim his tea.

“Milk. Three sugars.”

"T'anks." Jim gives Sebastian another one of his soft smiles. People like being smiled at. It sets off positive reactions in their brains.

Then he's distracted by chocolate digestives, dunking them into his tea and dragging his tongue along the chocolate side. Sebastian purposefully averts his eyes, though he's not entirely sure why. Cradling his own mug as he settles next to Jim.

"Any less morbid things to talk about?"

"Mmmm." Jim nibbles at the edge of his biscuit thoughtfully. "Do the other postmen like you any more?"

“The funeral plan didn't go well." Sebastian sighs. "And a little while ago some of the guys invited me to their weekly poker game, and I cleaned up, so pretty much everyone thinks I'm an asshole."

"Aw, sore losers. Little dears. Don't sound like they're worth the trouble." Psh. Ordinary people. How dull. Sebastian's okay because he's pretty and shoots things.

“Yeah well, I feel like I should make some effort. Just so they don't make the effort of trying to fuck with me. I'd rather slip by than that."

"Postmen are a lot more nasty than I first assumed. Who'd have thought this is what happens behind closed doors. Or, rather, outside closed doors. Getting the inside scoop. I am enlightened."

"Same everywhere, isn't it? No one likes new people. Everyone is suspicious. One wrong move and you're out. And I've made a few. I'm not cut out for workplace politics."

"You don't have to spend too long around them, though? It's mostly ground work. You and the open road. And Doris."

"No, yeah, that's true. And thankfully most people on the route get along with me fine. And if they don't, the dog tags slip into view and oh yes, I did fight for the country. Iraq, yeah, that's right. Thank you, sir. Yes, you too."

"Wow, Bastian, I'm surprised at you. Manipulating the poor civilians of our good city." Jim giggles.

“They allow themselves to be manipulated.”

Oh, Sebastian, if only you knew.

"What're you going to do if I decide I don't like you?"

"I think it might be too late for that,” Sebastian says, smiling.

"Well, you know me. I could change my mind. I could decide next week that I hate you, and your little soldier trick won't work on me."

"What _would_ work on you?"

"If I decided I don't like you? Probably nothing."

"Then I guess I wouldn't try."

"Sensible decision."

"Let's hope that doesn't happen, then."

"You'll just have to stay in my good books."

"I'll do my best. I'm doing alright so far though, right?"

"So far."

"So, I'm guessing you wouldn't care much if I decided I didn't like you, eh?"

“How could you not like me?"

“You really need me to answer that?"

"I do now."

"But I'm doing so well. Let's not ruin it."

"No no,” Jim says. “You've started this, you have to finish it now."

"I don't want to."

"Tough cookie."

"What?"

"We all have to do things we don't want to.”

"And you're going to make me talk, are you?"

"Aw c'mon, if you don't tell me I'll just start assuming the worst."

"That's not going to work, sorry."

"That bad?"

"Nah."

"Must be if you won't even tell me."

"I just don't think I should go telling people every little thing I might not like about them. I wouldn't expect them to change, and it's only going to make for bad blood."

"Then you shouldn't bring it up in conversation, now I'm just dyyyying to know."

"You brought it up, actually."

"I was joking. You made it serious."

"I never make things serious. Do you even know me?"

"This is serious now. I won't get mad, alright, just tell me."

"I'm not going to tell you, Jim."

"You scared or somethin'?"

"Nope, not at all."

"Is it that I'm more attractive than you? I mean, some men find ageing difficult. You're out of your prime. It's fine to be self conscious."

“Oh please, I'm far more attractive than you, especially today."

"You can fool yourself, old man, but you can't fool the world."

"Out of the two of us, I'm pretty sure you're in denial."

"You're bitter because your glory days are over."

"And yet, I bet if we both went out, I could score more numbers than you."

"Quality over quantity, Bastian."

“That's not the game."

"I'd rather have one decent pull than several shit ones."

"Depends on the quality of the place we would go to. Even with a higher standard of prey I could still score more numbers."

"And yet the luckiest person would still be whoever I choose to take home." Jim flashes Sebastian a winning smile, the kind that says, 'it could be you, babe.' Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“They can join those lucky three predecessors, eh?"

"That's cute. Very cute."

"Oh shit, is it less? Two?"

"A gentleman doesn't shag and tell, darlin'."

"When did you become a gentleman?"

"Wow. We certainly are cutting out rough this evening."

"Awh come on, play along.” Sebastian smirks. “How many you bedded?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me what you don't like about me."

"Oh, an exchange. I'm tempted."

"Well?"

"I have to go first?"

"Of course."

“Well,” Sebastian sighs, pained. “You can be a bit of a dick."

"That's a terrible reason. I already know that."

"Oh well. Now you, how many?"

"You don't get an answer for that. You can't exchange me something I already know."

"We didn't agree that my reason had to be a good one. Just a reason."

"That's not even an exchange."

"Only because you're failing to live up to your side of the bargain and being a bit of a dick about it."

"But I am a dick, so what did you expect?"

"Sometimes you can be dead on. I hoped this might be one of those times."

"Aw. Hope is for losers. Welcome to reality."

"Come on, just play along, for once. What's it hurt to tell me a number?"

Jim sighs; long, drawn out, full of exaggerated suffering.

"Are we talking full sex here or any sexual engagement?"

"What would you qualify as full sex and not?" Sebastian asks, frowning.

"Well if I've only sucked someone off, does that count?"

"Is that considered sex in the gay world?" Sebastian grimaces at himself. At this conversation. Regret.

"In the same way a girl blowing you would be in the .. "Straight" world." Jim pulls a face, because that's the dumbest phrasing ever, really. The gay world. Yeah, cross the rainbow bridge and take a left by Elton fucking John's house. Gosh.

"Then no, oral doesn't count. Jesus."

"Why I was asking. Sixteen."

Sebastian licks his lips, considering that, before he nods, making an 'aww, how cute' expression.

“Makes sense.”

"Excuse me."

"You're excused."

Jim gives Sebastian a sharp kick to the thigh.

“How does that 'make sense'?”

“Well, you said it yourself, right? You're picky. Yet you seem to enjoy getting shagged, right? I mean, who doesn't? So yeah, makes sense.”

“Mmmm.” Jim looks Sebastian over. "You gonna tell me yours, then? I can tell you're dying to."

"A gentleman doesn't shag and tell."

"If I'm not a gentlemen, then you certainly are not."

"I am very much a gentleman. How dare you."

"If you insist." Jim leans back against the arm of the chair again, and by this point he's dominating at least half of the couch.

"It's not a very impressive number anyway. More so considering how many years I've been active, maybe. But eh."

"Mhm." Jim feigns disinterest, licking at another biscuit.

"Sixteen, though. Did they all survive?"

"Yes." Rolling his eyes. No.

"Jim Moriarty, the black widow."

"You are so very funny, my dear. Such a scream."

“Aw, lighten up,” Sebastian says, but only receives a raised eyebrow in response. “Have I upset you?”

"Why would I be upset?"

"Just making sure."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I always try not to be."

"Try harder."

"You love it."

"..."

"You definitely do."

"Your ego knows no bounds."

"We have that in common, then?"

"You're rather sharp for an old man."

"That's because I'm not an old man."

"Heading there at a rapid pace."

"Everyone is."

"You're significantly closer than a lot of us."

"You're as young as you feel."

"Right." Jim laughs, shaking his head.

"I'm sure you feel a lot older than you are. You act it."

"How do I act older?"

"Just the way you talk, the things you say. You just have more of an, eh... Air of confidence that you'd associate with someone older."

"Aw, that almost sounded like a compliment."

"I do give them out sometimes."

"I'm so lucky. Wow."

"I'm sorry. It's much rarer coming from you, ain't it?"

"Perhaps it wouldn't be if you were deserving."

"My ego takes a serious beating the longer our conversations go. Not sure I deserve it."

"It's great. I ground you."

"I don't think it's great."

"It's for your own good."

"Least I have an excuse now for whenever I give you a hard time, eh?"

"What? That I acknowledge your faults?"

"'It's for your own good,'” Sebastian repeats.

"You can't steal my lines!"

"You didn't come up with that."

"Between us I did."

"I'm older than you. I've said it first."

"Not to me you haven't."

"Doesn't matter."

Jim gives Sebastian another kick of reprimand, but this time, Sebastian grabs his foot. Firmly.

“That's rude," he says.

"Maybe I'm rude."

"You're definitely rude. But I'd appreciate if the kicking stopped."

Sebastian hesitates for a long moment, staring directly at Jim. Very slowly, he releases his foot. Jim immediately kicks him again. Sebastian raises his eyebrows, gripping Jim's ankle.

“What age are you? Five?”

"Apparently I'm old beyond my years." Jim wriggles his foot in an effort to get free.

"Only sometimes."

"Variety is the spice of life."

"No kicking."

"Spoilsport."

“No. Kicking."

"How do you intend to stop me?"

"I don't wanna hurt you,” Sebastian says, with a stern frown. “But your post might get lost mysteriously."

"You can't meddle with the post!” Jim gasps, shocked. “I could report you."

"I could hold things up significantly and get away with it. Plus if you reported me, I'd get fired, and you wouldn't have me on your doorstep every other day."

"Like I'd care if you start meddling with my post."

"Put your job on hold. No job, no money."

"Further encouraging me to both kick and report you."

"And then you end up with another Arthur."

"I could end up with a younger, hotter postman who's down to fuck."

“So that's the problem?” Sebastian snorts. “That I don't want to fuck you?"

"The problem is that you're threatening to meddle with the post. Do try and keep up, this is _your_ hypothetical situation, after all."

“Just don't kick me.”

“Fiiiine.”

Sebastian smiles, cautious around the edges, and slowly releases Jim's ankle. Jim deposits his feet in Sebastian's lap instead, sighing like this is the worst thing to ever happen.

“Good boy,” Sebastian says, patting his calf.

As Sebastian finishes his tea, Jim wriggles. He's _not_ kicking, but he's definitely moving his legs in an annoying manner. Sebastian glances at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You want something?" he asks.

"Nope."

"Are you having a fit?"

"Ha ha."

"Maybe I should head on."

"Bed time from grandpa?"

"Nah.” Sebastian shakes his head, hand on his stomach. “Just haven't eaten since this morning."

"There's food in the kitchen." Maybe. Bread might still be in date? Might.

"Can't just eat someone else's food, can I?"

"I think we're there."

"You hungry?"

Jim gives a vague hum in response.

"Maybe I could just order in, then?"

"That's also an idea." Probably safer than Jim's kitchen.

"Unless you'd rather I cook?"

Jim looks at Sebastian with a blank expression.

"I really don't care,” he says.

"I'll go explore your kitchen then, if that's alright?"

"Explore away."

Jim pulls his legs back to let Sebastian move, before sprawling out over the couch. Sebastian makes his way to the kitchen, going through the cupboards he hasn't been in before, then trying the freezer. He doesn't find much; some pasta, a box of potato waffles, a half eaten Black Forest Gateaux. He's sporting a frown when he returns to Jim.

“Maybe best to just order take away. I have a Chinese I usually go to; want me to order you anything?”

"Get noodles. There's change in the tin in the kitchen." Jim gives a vague wave in the direction.

Sebastian retrieves his phone from his jacket, coming back to the living room. He shifts Jim enough to give him a space on the couch, though Jim just falls back in place on top of him. Sebastian sends him a scowl for that, not particularly enjoying contact, but he won't push him away, phone pressed to his ear, placing their order. Meanwhile, Jim's wondering if it's weird to take your jeans off when people are visiting. The second time, anyway. Maybe that's a third visit kind of thing?

When Sebastian's done on the phone, Jim turns on the TV and chucks the remote at him. He's tired from all the social interaction, and wouldn't mind a lull. Sebastian happily accepts the remote and flicks through the channels until he finds something vaguely interesting. He ignores Jim while he waits for the food, distracted like a puppy with a toy in front of him. Jim's pleased for the quiet, giving him time to just float into his own thoughts. He's actually starting to drift off a bit when someone knocks at the door.

Sebastian is up and at the door within a matter of seconds, hunger making him eager. He pays the delivery man, taking the bag of food from him and returning to Jim.

“So weird being on the other side of that.”

"Mmm?" Jim's not sleepy. No. Not at all. He drags himself up, and his hair has got all ruffled from lying down. "Oh. Door. Ri-" yawwwwwn. "-iight."

Sitting down, Sebastian laughs at Jim's sleepiness. He sets out the food boxes on the table.

“I'm pretty sure you're a cat.”

Jim produces a half hearted 'meow' noise as he settles himself cross legged on his side of the couch, rubbing at his eyes.

"If you wanna sleep, you can sleep. I can go."

"'M not tired." Winning argument.

“Food will either give you energy or make you sleepy,” Sebastian says, pushing Jim's noodles towards him, which he numbly accepts. “It'll be interesting to see which."

The television has changed to a quiz show, and while Sebastian arranges a series of boxes into his Man Dinner in front of him, he occasionally chips in an answer. Jim spends a good few minutes absently poking his noodles around with his fork, before actually taking a mouthful. He chews mechanically, staring blankly at the television, although his eyes do flick to Sebastian every time he speaks.

He's actually quite good, a lot of his answers correct, but that's because he watches quiz programmes a lot to fill his time. It's not really practical knowledge. If Jim is lucky, his mouth is mostly empty when he speaks. Jim also mumbles answers to some of the questions, although he knows a decent amount of the answers. He eats slowly, taking a good twenty seconds to chew each mouthful. Still poking it around the container more than anything else. Sebastian is the opposite; eating like he's never going to see another bite. Used to fighting for food.

Within fifteen or so minutes, Sebastian's has managed to speed eat through everything. He lays back against the couch to nurse his food belly. Full, but ultimately happy. After a few moments, his head rolls to the side so he can watch Jim.

“How's your noodles?”

"Hmm? They're fine." And he's made it through half the box, which is quite an achievement considering he hasn't really had a proper meal in a few days. Another mouthful or so and he gives up, abandoning the box and mimicking Sebastian's pose, hand over his own swollen stomach.

"I thought you reviewed stuff for a living," Sebastian says.

"Mmm 3/5 would try again smiley face thumbs up."

"That's better.” Sebastian pats his stomach. “I needed that.”

Jim makes a vague, mumbling noise of agreement. He stretches out again, legs draped over Sebastian's lap, and murmurs the name of a constellation as an answer. Sebastian doesn't notice, displeased at being reduced to furniture again, but too full and sluggish to protest.

"I'll clean all that away and take your rubbish out for you as soon as I can move again."

"Good boy."

Jim reaches down, just about manages to pat pat Sebastian's thigh, then drops back. He tugs the little blanket that is resting over the back of the couch down on to himself. He's been on the edge of sleep since before they ate, so after five minutes he's out like a light. Sebastian is warm, full, content; and it won't take him long to follow Jim, drifting off in his slumped position.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is (temporarily) knighted, Jim is gorgeous again, and they go on their man date.

Jim stirs during the night, feeling stiff and a touch uncomfortable. These jeans were designed to make his ass look great, not for sleeping in. He sits up with a little groan, momentarily caught off guard by the fact there is a person beneath his lower half. Right. Sebastian. Okay. Jim's movement has stirred him as well, and he blinks awake, twisting the crick from his neck. The light of the television is still flickering over them, playing an infomercial for a special ironing board.

“Fuck,” Sebastian says, rubbing at his face as he remembers where he is. His voice is croaky, and his mouth tastes disgusting. Ugh. Fuck. “Jesus, sorry. What time is it? I should go.”

Jim feels around for the remote, hitting up the TV guide.

“It's quarter to-” Yawwwwwn. “Four.”

Jim blinks groggily, rolling his shoulders to try and work the stiffness out. With a whine that is a mixture of sleepy and annoyed, he flops back onto the couch. Floop. Sebastian shifts Jim's legs, slipping out from beneath them. Jim lies sleepily, listening to the sound of him moving in the dark. The thought of offering Sebastian the couch never occurs to him.

Sebastian gathers the rubbish from their takeaway up, clumsy in the dark, but managing from the light of the TV. Assuming Jim has gone back to sleep, he slips out without a goodbye, dumping the rubbish as he goes. He pulls on his jacket as he makes his way down the stairs, trying to remember what he's forgotten, because he's sure there's something. It's only when he arrives back at his own flat does he think, ah yes. My phone.

Once he's heard the door click shut, Jim drags himself up and off the couch. He turns the television off, then wanders groggily down the hall. Stripping in the bathroom, he brushes his teeth, before circling back to his room and falling in to bed. Of course, once he's there, he can't sleep. Typical.

*

Jim manages a few hours of drifting, troubled sleep, before he gives up on it entirely. He spends his morning testing out the lube by having a good wank in bed. If he happens to consider Sebastian in the process, well, that's just a passing thought. Can't be controlled.

Overall, the lube is rather disappointing, and once Jim is satisfied and sticky, he pads off to the shower. He's just dried off, applied a fresh layer of cream to his face, and slipped into a pair of briefs when the door knocks.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Sebastian hands Jim a few letters, feeling awkward for a reason he can't place. “I don't have a parcel, I just, uh... Did I leave my phone here last night?”

“Hold on. Just let me check.” Jim pads across the living room and leans over the back of the couch. He rises a moment later with Sebastian's phone held triumphantly in his hand. "Found it!"

Jim returns with the phone held up like a prize, which he presents to Sebastian.

"There you are, fine sir. Your phone."

“Why thank you, m'lady."

"Hey! I'm the king, if anything."

“You're right.” Sebastian says, smirking. “You're the king. Obviously. How silly of me."

"I was going to appoint you as a knight, but you have just proven yourself a jester."

"You don't even find me funny. I'd make a much better knight than a jester."

"Perhaps a poor pauper then."

"That would be a waste of talented, knight-material."

"You should have respected the king."

"I have nothing but respect for my fearless ruler."

"You've already shown what you think of your king, and I fear it was not worthy of a reward."

"When I called the king a lady, I only meant he contained the precious beauty of one."

"A valiant effort at recovery, but forgiveness did not raise me to this position."

"But, if granted your forgiveness, I'll pledge to repay you by protecting the fair king, keeping thou safe and strong in power."

"The king is not convinced you are committed."

"I serve one king. The true king. You. Or my honour, or my life."

"Perhaps a trial run."

"Tell me what to do, to please the king."

Jim can think of a few things.

“Kneel before me,” is what he says.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, hesitating. Is this really happening? More so, is he actually playing along? Yes, it would seem, because he's already going down, proposal style. Just to see how it plays out. Meanwhile, Jim glances around. He spots an umbrella. That'll do.

"I hereby dub thee- on a temporary basis, until further notice- Sir Sebastian." Jim taps Sebastian's shoulders with the brolly. "You may rise."

"It's an honour to serve the king," says Sebastian, laughing as he stands.

"You better do me proud."

"I vow to always do you proud, my lord."

"Of course you do. Now shouldn't you be getting back to work?"

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the temporary knighthood." Sebastian gives Jim a smile as he leaves.

*

Sebastian blinks when Jim opens the door, surprised.

“You're looking well today.”

Jim is wearing a suit. Not quite as expensive as his tastes, but it's not a cheap suit, either. He glances up at Sebastian with a smile as he signs.

“Thanks.”

“And your skin is pretty much back to normal, too.”

"Yeah, the creams must have worked.”

“Are you actually going outside today?” Sebastian gasps with feigned shock.

“Well, I figured since I no longer look like an abominable snowman, I might as well."

“Something important, is it?"

"Friend's dinner party, I was just trying to decide which colour to go with." Lie. He's actually got a business meeting.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. I'd offer to help, but unless neon orange or plaid are options, I'm lost."

Jim scrunches up his nose at the very thought of those.

"Oh god. No. No!"

“Lucky I won't ever be dressing you then, eh?" says Sebastian, with an easy laugh.

"As if I would ever let you. You, on the other hand, would probably look at least four times better if I dressed you."

"Can't imagine a situation that would require you to dress me." Thank god.

"General life, by the looks of it."

"I spend half the day in a uniform."

"And the rest in rags."

"You've seen me out of uniform once."

"It's ingrained in my mind."

"Sorry to have offended your senses. But at least I was dressed."

Probably would have been better if you were not, Jim thinks.

“Ohh, is that a dig?”

“Was it that obvious?” Sebastian smirks. “Whoops.”

"It is my flat. I can be naked if I want."

"That is very true. I don't mind too much, actually." Only realising how that sounds once it's left his mouth. But Sebastian's so used to nudity, it doesn't bother him.

"Then stop complaining."

"Consider my complaining stopped."

"Good boy."

Sebastian's tongue lingers on his lips as he glances Jim up and down again, taking a step back.

“I'll leave you to it, then. Good luck with the colours, and the dinner party.”

"Thanks. Oh!" Jim bounces forward after Sebastian. "And now that I'm gorgeous again, you can take me shooting!"

“That's very true.” Sebastian smiles, nodding. “Well, you're busy today. How's your schedule for the rest of the week?”

"I'm sure I can fit you around all my exciting product testing."

"So tomorrow afternoon maybe?"

"Suits me."

"I'll just meet you here, then? A bit after I finish work?"

"Wait. Gimme your phone."

Sebastian frowns, but he hands his phone to Jim, who quickly taps his number in before handing it back.

"Text me before you come over in case I've popped to the shop or something."

“Yeah, alright. I'll do that.”

"Cool. Seeya tomorrow then."

For their man date.

“Have a good day.”

Once Sebastian leaves him, Jim sets off not long after. His meeting goes excellently, and he comes back with considerable prospects, which are all very exciting.

*

When he finishes work the next day, Sebastian calls back to his flat to gather his things. He cleaned his guns the previous evening, all nice and ready, extra care. He's dressed in his RAGS hoody, leather jacket, and heavy boots. He's even got his tags hanging over his shirt, because he likes the clink sometimes. He calls ahead to the place to make sure he has a spot, then fires off a text to Jim.

Alright if I head down to you now? -SM

Jim leaves it five minutes before he replies. Doesn't want to seem too eager. Casual casual. He's dressed in his favourite jeans and a sweater, a scarf looped around his neck.

Yeah -JM

Sebastian's been waiting impatiently for a response, and once it comes through he sets out without bothering to reply. He's at Jim's building in less than fifteen minutes, and he calls a cab on his way up to his flat.

“Hi.” Jim grins as he opens the door, and he's actually rather excited about seeing Sebastian shoot.

"I've eh, ordered a cab, should be here in a few minutes."

"Look at you with all your toys."

Jim stands back to let Sebastian in. He's got a bag slung over his shoulder, and is carrying a hard case. He gives it a wiggle as he enters.

“This here's my pride and joy.” He raises the shoulder with his bag. "These are his friends."

"How adorable." Jim moves around, gathering; phone, keys, wallet. Checking he has everything.

“How'd your, eh, dinner thing go?”

"Alright. Wasn't particularly exciting."

“What colour did you settle on?"

"I just kept the navy one on."

"It looked good."

"I know. At least one of us can dress themselves."

“What's wrong with this?” Sebastian looks down at himself, and Jim frowns, disapproving. “What does that even mean?”

“Nothing,” says Jim. “Is that our cab?”

The car ride to the gun range isn't particularly long. Jim follows along, silently observing as Sebastian checks in and leads the way. He hovers by Sebastian's shoulder as he assembles his rifle, because, oh helloooo, that _is_ a gun. As opposed to his little handgun hidden down the back of the mattress.

Sebastian runs through checks of the mechanisms. He sets up his tripod, adjusting the scope by distance to the target. His old-school wind calculator is perched on the ground while he loads his ammo, and he tosses Jim a set of (ugly) sound mufflers.

"Gonna want to use those."

Jim finds their ugliness disgraceful, but he has sensitive little ears, so he'll slide them on anyway. He's interested in the way Sebastian works around a gun, and has shifted quite close to watch him. Sebastian's too in the zone to notice.

He's finished his set up now, and pulls on his own sound mufflers. Lying behind the gun, he positions it against his shoulder, leaning his cheek against it. The skin there is always rough and hard from the recoil friction. Taking his time to line up. Slow inhale. Slow exhale. Bang. Bang. Bang. Squeezing out a few shots until he's happy. He assesses them through his mounted scope, before he fiddles through his things for a spare scope for Jim, to let him see his perfect shots.

The noise is a little loud for Jim's liking, but when he glances through the scope, a smile curls at the corner of his mouth. Sebastian wasn't lying about being a great shot. Of all the postmen in all of London, Jim is really glad he got this one.

"Good boy."

Jim's smile sends a thrill of delight through Sebastian, watching closely for his reaction, oddly desperate to please. Even that familiar comment doesn't annoy him in the way it usually does. He licks his lips absently before speaking.

“Want to pick another target for me?”

Jim's smile slowly widens into a grin. He nods and looks through the scope again, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully.

"That one. Three to the left of the one you just hit."

Sebastian nods. This has always been his thing alone, since he got back, and while it's strange to share it with someone, it's not unpleasant. He likes having the opportunity to display his talent. He locates the target fairly quickly, experience showing. Readjusting, checking wind speed, adjusting his own position marginally. Breathe. Squeeze. Lean into the recoil. One shot fired, right on target, and four more because he can, because he enjoys it.

Jim is enjoying this in the way one enjoys watching a dog fetch a stick. It's rather endearing, actually. He watches through his own scope as Sebastian hits the target repeatedly, sensing his trigger happiness. Perhaps in another year or so he could come in handy.

"I guess you don't want to try?" Sebastian turns to Jim, lifting his mufflers off to speak.

"I'm not sure I'd be very good."

“That's okay. I brought a few hand guns, if you want to try one of those?”

"Will you show me how?"

“If you want, yeah."

"Okay. I suppose I'll give it a try then."

Sebastian grins, sitting up and beginning to disassemble his baby.

"Have to go inside then, no point in taking a nine mill to a target that far away, is there?"

Once his rifle is packed back into its case, Sebastian leads Jim inside and finds them a free stall. He sets out a selection of handguns, all loaded and ready to go.

"Ever used a gun before?"

"No." Not technically a lie. He hasn't properly used one. Mostly for intimidation. Shot a guy in the foot once. Was aiming for the stomach. Let's not go there.

Sebastian takes one of the guns, pointing out the safety first. He proceeds to point out the other parts of the gun, and Jim waits impatiently until he is allowed to hold it. Sebastian shows him the proper stance, explains the recoil, and then finally passes it across.

"Show me your stance."

Jim imitates Sebastian's pose perfectly, holding the gun in the same manner he was shown. Sebastian smiles approvingly, hitting the button to send the target sheet zooming into position. He moves behind Jim, giving him a little touch under his arm to raise the posture so the gun is at his eye line.

"Just line the gun so it's level with the guide at the nose. Take a few moments to find your mark. Breathe in, and squeeze the trigger on your exhale. You can be the quickest shot out there, but it doesn't mean anything if you're not aimed properly." Sebastian checks Jim once more, before stepping back. "Take the safety off and cock."

Jim clicks the safety off and pulls the hammer back. He does as instructed, lining up his aim and breathing in slowly. One. Breathing in relaxation. Two. Breathing out and pulling the trigger. His aim is awful.

“That's okay. I think it's just a little recoil issue. Why don't we just move you into isosceles.”

Sebastian presses himself against Jim's back, and Jim tenses beneath him. He doesn't like physical contact unless he's the one initiating it, and Sebastian at his back puts him at a disadvantage. Sebastian uses his own leg to pull Jim's back, while keeping the other in place, and gently adjusts his shoulders and hands. He props his chin on Jim's shoulder, so he's at the same eye line, and moves the gun in his hands so the sights are lined up, before moving back.

“Try again.”

This time, when Jim pulls the trigger, he's a decent bit closer, but it's still not a winning shot.

“Much better.” Sebastian smiles at Jim. “You wanna empty the clip? It's great stress relief.”

Jim looks at Sebastian for a long moment, head leaning back against his shoulder, eyes wide. He is still for several seconds before he turns back, and bangbangbang until the gun is empty. He still doesn't hit the damn bullseye though.

Sebastian is chuckling by the time Jim is finished, and he calls the sheet back to them, taking a good long look at it.

“Think you killed him.”

"Good." The word is low, dark, and surprisingly serious, and it is a moment before Jim realises how it might be taken. "Seems the king can defend himself, then. Perhaps I don't need a knight after all."

Sebastian laughs, but that tone unsettles something within him. Might just be his history, how it's in his nature to be alert.

"I wouldn't go that far, yet, my liege." Sebastian plucks the gun from Jim's hands, dumping the clip out. He nods at the shredded target. "You should take this home, and put it on your wall, or something."

"I don't think it would go with the décor of my flat,” Jim says, pulling a face. This is followed with a high, genuine giggle, and he feels a kick of adrenaline making him restless and giddy.

Sebastian watches Jim with a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, wondering how someone can go from dark and serious, to giddy and giggling so quickly.

“You want to go again?”

"Yeah." Jim nods eagerly, and he bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for Sebastian to set up again. He's determined to hit the target properly this time.

Sebastian sets up a fresh target sheet, and changes to one of the other guns. This one is slightly smaller for Jim's hands to handle, and a bit longer for accuracy, which should help. He checks it over, before handing it to Jim and stepping aside.

"Whenever you're ready."

Jim takes his time getting into position, doing everything Sebastian showed him. His first two shots miss, and he hisses rather than just exhales on his third try. This one hits the edge of the centre target, tearing into the side of it, which is good enough for Jim.

"I did it!" He bounces excitedly, gun still in his hands, caught off guard by his own delight. Sebastian's hands automatically go up to defend himself, and then he's moving forward, trying to take the gun gently from Jim with a smile.

“Yeah, you did it. Just be careful. We don't want to test your handiwork on an actual person."

"Not you, anyway. You can live. For now. Let me shoot the rest," Jim demands, and he's never really loosened his hold on the gun, even while Sebastian was trying to pry it from him.

“Go on, then.” Sebastian sighs, releasing his grip and stepping back.

Jim grins and takes up his place again. Bangbangbang. He's still not a fan of the noise, but he likes how the gun recoils against him, likes how he can feel it in his bones, all the way up his arms, and then rattling down his legs. He likes that feeling, how it shakes him. Sebastian watches with an absent smile until the gun clicks empty.

"You think this'll be your new hobby?"

"Mmm. I don't think so, but it was fun to try."

"Shame, really. Bit of practice and you'd be a pretty good shot."

"But my weapon of choice is the crowbar, remember? I have no need for guns."

"Ah, of course. How could I forget!"

"On the ball, 'Bastian."

“You want to see something cool?” Sebastian asks, setting up a new target sheet for himself.

Jim glances around the room, pressing up on his toes and straining his neck, really scoping the place out.

"Don't see any mirrors in here," he says.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, shaking his head, amused. He turns his back to the target, facing Jim. The final gun, his Beretta, is held by his side.

“Face me, and go like... Five paces back.”

Jim looks at Sebastian uncertainly, before slowly moving. He doesn't like being told what to do, but he's curious, so he takes five steps back and tilts his head to the side inquisitively. Sebastian slips into position, raising his gun, and aiming between Jim's eyes. Jim stares the gun down, unaffected, grinning. He knows Sebastian isn't stupid enough to shoot him in a public place. Sebastian's finger is on the trigger, and at the last moment he spins 180 degrees and fires off one shot, right at the bullseye mark on the targets "chest". Jim tries not to seem too impressed.

Sebastian pauses, before firing off a few more shots, just for shits and giggles. He hasn't been to the range in a while, so it's nice to muck about. He shoots eye holes into the target, then nipples, and, whoops, there's a dick shot. Little off centre, but he'll do two balls on either side, and it doesn't look so bad. He smiles at his target, bringing it forward to them.

Jim watches Sebastian with amusement, padding forward a few steps so he can see better. It's only imitation, of course. He'd much rather see him shooting live targets. Would he hear the bodies hit the floor or would the sound of the shot still be echoing? Depends on where, really, but that's fun to think of for a moment, and suddenly his head is filled with science and equations.

"Now, if that isn't worth going on your wall,” Sebastian says, taking down his target sheet. “I don't know what is."

"Darling, don't flatter yourself."

"Not even on the fridge?"

"You'd have to make it considerably smaller."

"I could fold it up."

"I think I'll pass, if it's all the same."

"You're not impressed?"

"You did tell me you were good." Jim shrugs. "I'd have been disappointed otherwise."

Sebastian sighs, muttering an “unbelievable” beneath his breath as he turns to pack up his things.

His frustration will simmer out quickly enough, though, still feeling that nice buzz from shooting. It doesn't take him long to clear up, and then he turns to Jim, who has been having a wander around.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes.” Jim pads quite happily back to Sebastian's side, pleased with their little outing.

"Will we get a taxi back now or is there anywhere else you want to go?"

"Not unless there's anywhere you wanna go."

Sebastian shakes his head, and after a quick call, he's ordered them a cab.

“Have fun?”

“Yeah, actually.” Jim tightens his scarf around his neck. “Wasn't sure I would.”

“Bet Arthur never took you shooting,” says Sebastian, feigning jealously, not even sure where he's going with this.

"I don't think Arthur's poor heart could have taken all those loud noises."

"Damn right. Don't send a boy with a heart murmur to do a man's job."

"I really don't think you can get away with calling Arthur a boy." Walking corpse, perhaps. Fossil. Ancient history. Not boy.

"Right, yeah. He makes me look like a boy. And apparently that's quite a task." Pause. "Made."

"Made. Poor Arthur." Jim fights back a smile. Keep it serious. He glances sombrely towards the sky. Subtle subject change. "Looks like it's going to rain."

"Poor Arthur." That bastard. Reason I have a job, but reason everyone hates me. Sigh. "Taxi should be here soon, I guess."

Jim shuffles a bit closer to Sebastian, in a subtle way that makes it seem like he's just moving around on his feet. Truth be told, his sweater isn't doing much for the cold, and he's using Sebastian as a shield from the breeze.

“You're a pretty decent shot,” he finally admits. The only acknowledgement Sebastian will get.

Sebastian is quiet for a few moments, eyebrows raised in surprise. That's like... The first actual compliment that Jim has really given him, that isn't wrapped in a joke or disguised in a sneer comment. He gives a curt nod.

“Thanks.” Jim hums in acknowledgement, and Sebastian feels the need to say something nice in return. “I like your scarf.”

"So do I." Jim touches the end of his scarf with a little smile.

"Guess you wouldn't be wearing it if you didn't."

"Amazing deduction there." Jim turns to stare at Sebastian, long and hard, before smiling cheekily and glancing away. "No, I don't like any of your clothes."

"Too straight for you?"

"Are you insinuating to appear heterosexual you have to dress like a slob?"

"Well I mean, most straight guys just want clothes on their back. With gay guys, everything has to be the latest trend, and all neat and perfect and stylish or whatever. So a bit, yeah. Though I don't think I look like a slob. Maybe just compared to you."

"Trust me, there are just as many badly dressed gays in the world as there are straights. Nothing wrong with taking a little pride in your appearance."

"This _is_ me taking pride in my appearance."

Jim just gives Sebastian one of those looks as if he's taking him apart with his eyes, then turns his head to look down the road instead.

"I thought I looked alright."

"That's because you have no taste."

"Taste is subjective."

"Hmmm."

Sebastian sighs; long, drawn out, tortured.

“What would you put me in that would be so different from how I dress now?"

"You could still wear the same kinds of clothes, but they'd be more fitted to your shape." Jim turns back to Sebastian, tilting his head as he imagines it. "Mmm. Perhaps a proper jacket. The occasional button down."

“So I do have taste, just not tailored? I mean... I wear button downs." In plaid. Always the lumberjack. Pause. "This is a proper jacket. Probably the most expensive thing I own."

It's real leather, Jim. Real. Leather.

"There's a difference. Just because things are similar does not mean they are the same. A tiger is a feline, but it is not your house pet." Jim gives the jacket a bit of scrutiny. He does like Sebastian in leather. "I suppose the jacket is the least hopeless."

Sebastian sighs, looking at his feet for a bit. His stance automatically returns, and he's soon standing straight again, staring past Jim as he shrugs.

“Don't have the extra money lying around for new clothes.”

The taxi arrives not long after, and Jim spends most of the journey on his phone. He's not great at these long periods of social interaction. He needs a break every now and again. Sebastian has the cab drop Jim off at his place, before he heads back to his own.

“I had fun today,” Jim says as he climbs out of the cab. He looks at Sebastian for a moment, as if he's going to say something more, but then he just smiles. “See you later.”

“Bye.”

But Jim has already swung the door shut.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys looking after each other; Sebastian gets man flu, Jim gets something a touch more serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:  
> light mention of drug use (painkiller OD without effect)  
> vague reference to self harm  
> Neither are explicit, but just in case.

A few days later, Jim opens the door to a stranger.

“You're not Sebastian.” He doesn't usually make stupid observations like that, and he definitely doesn't intend for so much contempt to seep through into his voice, but this is not his postman.

“That's right, sir. I'm Tony.” It takes Tony a moment to form these words, thrown off guard. He was just expecting some sleepy citizen to open the door, sign for their package, and that would be his job done. “Can I get your signature for this parcel, please?”

“Hi Tony. You surprised me there.” Jim smiles, taking the touch pen. Play nice, first. Attain information. Then get rid of him. He won't sign until he's got answers. “Have they changed Sebastian's route?”

“Errr.” Tony's eyes linger on the pen, expectant. “No, no, he's taken some leave. He's sick or something, I suppose."

Tony has zero interest in Sebastian or his cause for leave. He doesn't understand why so many people on his route seem to like him. (Just wait until you get to Doris.) The only impression he's got of Sebastian is that he's a proper prick.

"Oh dear, poor Sebastian. Hope he feels better soon." So I don't have to look at you again, Jim thinks, finally scribbling his name. Once he's handed his parcel, he closes the door in Tony's face.

*

Heard someone has man flu. -JM

I think it's bird flu. I think I'm dying. -SM

Maybe it's exaggeratisis. Anyway, you can't die on me, your replacement is ugly and boring. -JM

No. I'm actually pretty sure I'm dying. I've started revising my will. -SM

I just said no dying. By order of the king. Unless you're leaving me a secret, vast fortune in your will. In which case, feel free to pop off as soon as possible. -JM

All I've got to leave is a few guns and some military stuff. Barely any money. Sorry. -SM

Then I suppose you'll just have to stay alive until you're suitably rich. -JM

I don't like my chances. -SM

Crybaby. Anything I can do? -JM

Really? -SM

Depends. -JM

I'd appreciate it if you could pick up some drugs. -SM

I think I could manage that. -JM

I can pay you back. -SM

I would do it myself only I can barely move never mind leave the flat. -SM

Hey, you helped me recovering my beauty, I think we're even. What do you need? -JM

Do they sell things for swine flu? Bird flu? Foot and mouth disease? -SM

Drama drama drama. I don't really think they sell vaccines, no. Not that they'd work once you've already contracted. Anything I can get in Boots? -JM

Some kind of magical flu medication maybe? -SM

I'll see what I can find, but it is Boots, not Narnia. -JM

Thank god for that. Wouldn't want you to come back with a goat man or a bald lion. -SM

Thanks, Jim. -SM

Aslan got his mane back. I'll be over soon. -JM

Sooner if you tell me where you live. -JM

Sebastian texts Jim through his address, and Jim smiles. He'd only offered out of nosiness, in the hopes he'd get to see where Sebastian lives. After all, Sebastian is well acquainted with his flat. It's only fair. He stops at Boots on his way, randomly picking boxes and bottles of stuff that sound like they could be helpful. When he's done, he takes a cab to Sebastian's.

When Sebastian opens the door, he is a mess. His eyes are bloodshot and droopy, he is pale save for his nose, which is pink and raw, and his lips are dry and chapped. His hair is ruffled, sticking up in all directions. All he is wearing is a pair of sweatpants, with a blanket draped around his shoulders, looking like he may sneeze at any moment. He leans against the door, as if he may fall over, and stares at Jim for a moment, before remembering why he is there. It's strange being on the other side when usually he's the one calling for Jim.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is lower than usual, nasally and rough like he's been coughing for hours.

“Oh wow, you're even uglier than usual.” Jim scrunches his nose up and looks Sebastian over like the pitiful mess he is, before inviting himself in. “Yuck.”

He slips in past Sebastian, glancing around as he does. Sebastian's flat is small, and simple; mostly bare. Any other day it wouldn't even look lived in, but today it is a mess of Kleenex boxes, take away containers, and a bucket by the couch (justincase). Jim perches himself on the arm of a chair that is a safe distance from any tissues, and a considerable distance from the bucket. Sebastian hovers by the door, having a sarcastic, imaginary conversation with himself.

“ _Hello Sebastian, how are you feeling?_ Ohh, not too good, Jim. _That's okay, I'm here to help._ Oh, that's so good of you, cheers pal. Would you like to come in? _Sure thing._ Right this way!”

"Are the theatrics really necessary?” Jim asks, producing his bag of drugs. “Such a drama queen when you're ill. I brought you a bit of everything, but don't take them all at once lest you overdose and die on me, because that rather defeats the purpose."

Sebastian sighs, closing the door and stumbling back to the living room. He doesn't get sick very often, but when he does, he's a miserable prick. Pulling his blanket more firmly around him, he passes Jim and drops onto the couch.

“You're a life saver. Thanks.”

"I hope you don't pass it to me.” Jim dumps the bag in Sebastian's lap. “If I do get sick I'll know who to exact my revenge upon."

Sebastian is poking his way through the bag with curiosity. Every so often, he pulls out a bottle or a box to examine it closer. Jim really did get everything.

"Well if you do get sick, we've got plenty of remedies."

"Mm." Jim stares down at the chair he is perched on the arm of. After a moment he seems to deem it suitable, for he slides down and sits in it properly. "True. I'd rather not be sickly, though, if it can be helped."

He takes a moment to look at Sebastian like one might look at an animal in a zoo. Not an animal they are particularly fond of.

"You're a mess."

“Did you think I was kidding when I told you I was dying?"

Jim sighs, heavy and drawn out.

"You're not dying."

"We're all dying." Finally settling on a bottle of something, Sebastian downs most of it in one go.

"Ha ha." Jim watches Sebastian. "I highly doubt that was the recommended dosage."

"Yeah well, I've been going without it for so long. I deserve a treat, eh?"

Sebastian just wants to spare himself the symptoms for a while. What he really wants, is to be able to eat without throwing it up again. It's been so long.

"You'll end up making yourself a different kind of sick." Jim knows this from past experience, but his tone doesn't betray that.

“It's fine, Jim. Don't worry." Sebastian sighs, lying back. "Tell me about your day. Give me news from the outside world."

"Hmm, well, I got a new postman. He's got a better ass than the last one."

“Thought you said he was ugly and boring."

"That doesn't mean he can't have a fantastic ass."

"I'm working on the ass." Sebastian's eyes flutter shut, the medicine making him drowsy.

"Ah yes, I can see you're working really hard. All this sitting around– Oi, you're not falling asleep on me, are you?"

Sebastian clears his throat, forcing his eyes open.

“Nope, nope. What were we talking about? You being an ass, or..?"

"If you're going to snooze on me like someone in an old peoples' home, I should leave you to it."

“No, no, it's just that stuff. Kicking in a bit sooner than I thought it would." Sebastian frowns, sitting up. "I heard if you stay awake through it you get a real kick. Did I hear that? I might have made that up."

"I think you've made that up." Jim gives a little laugh, amused by the situation.

"Shit. Well then. You'll just have to keep me awake."

"And how do you suppose I do that?"

Sebastian gives a sleepy, half hearted shrug, and Jim stretches out a leg to kick his ankle.

"I said no kicking," Sebastian murmurs, and it's clear from his tone that he's drifting off again.

"Alright, sleeping beauty, at least go to bed first."

"You that desperate to get away from the germs?"

"It's not very exciting watching you drift off."

"How could I be more exciting?"

"I don't know. You are pretty dull, aren't you?"

"How exactly am I dull?"

"It must be an old man thing."

"Try and not be a complete asshole, eh?"

"Aw, I'm just teasing ya. Part of my charm, isn't it?"

"I'm at a disadvantage here. This is like punching a kid in a wheelchair."

"Who says I wouldn't punch a child in a wheelchair?" Jim asks, smirking deviously.

"Would you?"

"Perhaps."

"Just saying, at least wait until I can defend myself before you start attacking."

"Whatcha gon do about it, death bed?" Accompanied by another little kick from Jim.

"You know, I might just try to get you sick on purpose."

"I will do more than kick you."

"Sure you will."

"You know how you could make me sick?"

"How?"

Jim purses his lips in a kissing motion, emitting little kissy noises, before he flops back into his chair, giggling.

Sebastian makes a show of almost throwing up.

"It's so flattering that you want me so much you're willing to get sick over it,” he says. “But I'll pass."

"Don't flatter yourself. Wouldn't want your dirty beard scruff anywhere near me."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, buddy."

"Maybe I'll make Tony my new project."

"Be my guest.” Sebastian smirks, eyes falling shut again. “Tony covering for me?”

“Mhm.”

“I thought you had standards.”

"Whatever gave you that idea? I mean, I do hang around with you. That seems to suggest a serious lack of standards."

"You said yourself, when we were talking before. About, ehh... The people you'd slept with and all that. Quality not quantity."

"I must have slipped somewhere along the line." Jim sighs, shaking his head and glancing towards the window. "Where did it all go wrong?"

“Didn't really slip though, did it?" Sebastian asks, smiling to himself. Jim glances back towards him, but doesn't respond verbally. “You don't have to stick around if you have better things to do. I'll probably survive.”

"Just the usual product testing, you know. Riveting stuff."

Sebastian is quiet for a few moments.

“Was Tony early or late?"

"Little later than you. Not by much."

He takes a second to consider that with a quiet hum.

"Got anything interesting recently?"

"Do you really wanna know? After last time?"

"What, because you got a little lube and wanked to the thought of me?"

"Darling, I have better things to be thinking of.”

"Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Mhmmm."

"Come on, anything interesting? I've been stuck inside for too long now."

"Mmm, interesting. Yes."

"What?"

Jim chews his lower lip, biting back a grin.

"I got a little toy to play with,” he says. “Well, I say little..."

“A toy?” Sebastian frowns, his head too foggy to pick up on Jim's meaning. “What, like a fire truck?"

Jim laughs.

"Not quite."

“Then, what?”

"Engage that little brain of yours, love."

"What?" Sebastian forces his eyes open, looking at Jim to get a read. Jim gives a whistle and makes a lewd hand gesture. "Oh, so you mean- oh... _oh_."

"Thereeeee we go."

"Do they think you're a lonely housewife or something?" Sebastian pulls a face, letting his head fall back again.

"Perhaps they're under the impression that I spend too long at home."

"You do a bit."

"You literally only see me in the mornings. I do go out when I'm not waiting for post."

"Where?"

"Oh, do I have to give you my life story now?"

"Don't have much else to do. And you _are_ pretty dull. So you should do something to change that, eh?"

"I'm leaving,” Jim says, but his tone is playful, and he makes no move to go.

“Did I say something?”

"You're being a prick. I'm the prick in this relationship."

“Relationship?" Sebastian blinks, looking across at Jim again.

"Don't say it like that. You know that's not what I meant."

"Yeah, sure." Sebastian looks Jim over for a moment, as Jim rolls his eyes. He lets his own flutter shut, but now he's just thinking about the dildo. Sigh.

"If I wanted to fuck you I'd have brought Viagra instead of cold medicine, so don't get your granny knickers all in a twist."

"You'd need more than Viagra for that to happen, pal."

Jim huffs out a laugh and stretches his body on the chair, sliding down into a slump.

"You're not very exciting when you're ill," he says.

"Because I'm too drowsy to get annoyed at your failed homo advances?"

"Because you don't do anything. Even your banter is weak."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know. Something." Jim feels everyone should exist to amuse him.

"Fuck you with you tingle lube and dildo?"

Shit. Where did that come from? It's even caught Jim off guard, and he blinks a few times. Then looks at Sebastian as if he's an idiot. Sebastian's just glad his eyes are shut so he doesn't have to see Jim's reaction.

"Because I so obviously carry them around with me."

"What a shame. Your turn to think of something to do."

"You know orgasms are supposed to help you feel better. Natural endorphins and all that."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe I should give you the rest of the lube."

"How generous. Thought you were gonna offer to give me a blowjob there."

"I have no desire to touch an infected person. Ew. Yeuck."

"But any other day..."

"Heh. You wish."

"You're the gay one." Sebastian's words are becoming slower and heavier with each sentence, and Jim can tell he's drifting off on him.

"I'm not actually gay, and even if I were, that doesn't mean I go around handing free blowjobs out."

"Why don't you just... admit... you want to fuck me."

"You keep dreaming, straight boy. Perhaps move that saggy butt of yours through to the bedroom first."

"Mnn, I'm fine here."

"I'll see myself out, then."

Sebastian makes a vague noise that doesn't really mean anything. Jim rises. He stops by the couch and looks down at Sebastian, clicking his tongue with a little 'tsk tsk'. A wander around the flat and he finds a pen, then tears up one of the medicine boxes for his paper.

_Until you are no longer dying_

He scribbles his signature beneath it, and then he does see himself out.

*

Another couple of days pass before Sebastian's back at work. When he reaches Jim's door, Jim is slower than usual to answer, and Sebastian almost leaves by the time the door swings opens. Jim leans against it with a grimace, hand pressed to his side. Sebastian's eyes instantly narrow, scanning Jim over, forgetting all about his package.

“What's wrong?”

"Oh, nothing much. Tripped and fell on a knife. Whoops." Jim manages a tight smile, strained around the edges. He's actually still in a fair bit of pain.

“The fuck, Jim?” Sebastian's whole face reads concern, and he's lingering on the threshold, like he's barely stopping himself from coming in.

"That was a joke. I'm not actually that clumsy."

"I know, I..." Sebastian shifts closer, and he just wants to see the damage so he can judge the extent of it. "What _actually_ happened?"

"Some wanker mugged me. I wouldn't give him my phone, so..." Jim makes a stabbing motion in the air between them. Sebastian's jaw clenches, his hand fisting at his side.

"When?"

"Few days ago. Thursday evening." Jim's distracted by the pain at first, but when he glances up again he catches the way Sebastian's jaw is clenched and, oh, this is new. This is... _fascinating_.

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sebastian's words are sharp; like he's taking a report, rather than being friendly.

"I didn't realise we are at the point where we send updates about everything that happens. You were sick, I didn't see you."

"You got _stabbed_."

"Aw, Bastian, I didn't realise you cared."

"Fuck off." Sebastian lets out a sharp exhale. He looks down at his signature pad, tapping it with more aggression than necessary. "Do you need anything?"

"Nah. I've got painkillers. Nothing else I can do, really. Just gotta grin and bear it." Jim grins, over exaggerated. He doesn't understand why Sebastian thinks he should have told him. He never even considered Sebastian's reaction to this. Do they do that? Send each other updates. Since when?

Sebastian himself is surprised by his reaction. He never thought he'd get so defensive of Jim, or feel this angry that someone could have killed him, over a damn phone and Jim's stupid attachment to it. Yet, here he is. He's always been loyal to his friends. It just never really occurred to him that Jim came under that category.

“You just give me a call or a text if you need anything, at all," he says quietly, handing Jim the pad.

Jim shifts, keeping his weight against the door frame and gritting his teeth as he signs. He looks at Sebastian without smiling, expression curious as he hands the pen back and straightens himself up.

"I should be okay."

“You will, I'm just saying, if you do. I'm just around the corner." Sebastian hands him his parcel. "Take it easy, yeah?"

"T'anks."

Jim watches Sebastian until he is out of view, before shutting the door and hobbling back inside, still a touch thrown from their exchange.

*

The next day is Sunday, so Jim is understandably confused when there comes a knock on his door. He was just building himself up to braving a shower. Hobbling down the corridor in his pants, he opens the door a little and glances out.

"Oh." Jim opens the door further at the sight of Sebastian. "Have you gotten your days mixed up, or are you just eager to make up for those days you lost?"

Without his shirt on, you can see the strip of gauze over Jim's side. There's a bit of blood seeping through, because he has been moving around a lot more than he really should be, and has managed to tug at one of the stitches a bit. Sebastian's eyes automatically flit down to it. He feels stupid standing there, but he had to come. He tries not to let his eyes linger on the wound, but he can't seem to help that either.

“I, uh- Wanted to come and check in. See how you were doing.”

"Come in. I was just about to attempt a shower actually. That's why I have this mess stuck to me." Jim indicates the gauze, which has a lot more tape than necessary holding it in place. "Not supposed to get it wet until the stitches dissolve."

"Don't suppose you have a bath, eh?" Sebastian steps inside, trying his best not to start mothering Jim.

"I do, but it's seldom used." Jim closes the door behind Sebastian and leads the way into the flat, trying to walk as straight as possible, to hide the pain.

"Wouldn't it be easier than all the standing and stretching in the shower?" He can hear the concern dripping from his own voice, and it's awful.

"But then I have to climb in. And out. And there's a greater chance of this getting wet. I'll be fine. I'll be fifteen, twenty minutes tops. Have some coffee. Watch TV. You can amuse yourself for that long." Jim's rambling a bit, unsure how to deal with concern. No one is ever concerned for him. No one ever has been. He doesn't know how to react.

"I would offer to help you in the shower, but I'm assuming you would call me an idiot and take it as a personal insult, yeah?"

"Pretty much." Jim flashes Sebastian a smile. "Make me tea, but better give it ten minutes or it'll be cold by the time I get out."

“Yeah, well, just give me a shout if you need me.”

Yep. He said it, but after Jim has already set off down the hall, so it's not quite as embarrassing as it could be. He sets to making coffee, if only to distract himself.

Once Jim's out of Sebastian's sight, he lets himself hunch again, giving in to the pain. His shower is a bit more effort than he is used to showers being, and it does take the pleasure out of it, but just over fifteen minutes later he's feeling a lot fresher. He hobbles across the hall to his room, towel around his waist, and dries off enough to pull on an old, soft pair of flannel pyjama bottoms he rarely wears. He strips the wet gauze off and pats the area around his stitches dry before navigating a shirt over his head. That's presentable enough for now.

When he comes back to the living room, Sebastian has his tea waiting for him. He looks up when Jim enters.

“Feeling better?” He smiles, but it is tense. He doesn't like this. Doesn't like that Jim has been hurt.

"Feeling cleaner, anyway." Jim gets some water from the fridge and pops a few painkillers into his mouth, swallowing them before he joins Sebastian in the living room. He lowers himself slowly into his seat, trying to disguise the little hiss. Sebastian chews his lips as he watches.

“I know what it feels like,” he says. “You don't have to do the tough guy thing.”

"Pass me my tea," is all Jim says, because no way in hell is he bending forward.

Sebastian nods, leaning forward to get it. He passes it gently across to Jim, continuing to watch him afterwards, phrasing what he wants to say in his head.

“You know my regiment in the army, it was pretty much a rite of passage to get shot.” Sebastian licks his lips, not looking at Jim any more. “Nothing fatal, just everyone got one, no matter how good a soldier they were. You know where I got mine? Buckshot to the arse. Not the kind of war wound anyone wants to show off. I mean, it wasn't a direct shot, not even that close, but still. Stung like a bitch, and I couldn't sit down properly for I don't know how long."

Jim almost laughs tea out of his nose, which is not graceful at all. The vibrations shoot pain through his side an he has to press his palm against it, still giggling. Sebastian smiles at the sound. It's so nice when Jim laughs, and to be the one to make him laugh. Aw man.

"I'm so glad you decided to share that."

“You've got that on me now. So at least your war wound looks cooler than my buckshot.” He gives a shrug, still smiling easily.

"I do. I'll remember that one." Jim reclines into the couch, tea cradled to his chest. He smiles down into his cup and doesn't think to consider how weird it is that Sebastian always seems to say the right thing, when no one else ever can.

“I'll show you the less arse-oriented ones some day though, if you want.”

"That could be interesting. Wanna see mine?"

Sebastian's smile gets an edge to it. Even if he wants to see the wound, he hates so much that it happened in the first place, hates that he couldn't do anything to stop it.

“Go on, then.” He moves himself closer so Jim doesn't have to twist.

Jim balances his tea between his legs and pulls his shirt up. The wound is along his left side, and it's more of a deep slash than an actual stab (thankfully). Seven stitches, the third one down a little raw where he's pulled it, but he's wiped the blood away now, so it's clean. Sebastian leans closer, his jaw clenching again; it's a reaction he only expects for close friends, hadn't realised he considered Jim like that. After a moment he forces a smile, managing a low whistle.

“Well, that's certainly something. You're a tough guy now. No one's gonna mess with you. I'd hate to see the other guy.” Because if I did, I would tear him into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Right? It should be a pretty impressive scar. Better than the others." Jim realises his slip immediately. He never shares anything personal, especially not like that. He'll blame it on the painkillers, the fact that he's been taking more than the recommended dose all day and is a bit loose lipped. “They probably won't catch him.”

Definitely won't, as he's already dead. Whoops.

“The others?” Sebastian frowns, and Jim curses internally.

"Oh, just little ones I picked up. Childhood falls and that." He's not really self conscious about his body, but the way Sebastian is looking at him is making him want to squirm. He lifts his tea again, holding it close so he can press his arms against his torso, hope Sebastian doesn't notice the faded lines of scar tissue.

"It'll make for quite a scar, alright.” Sebastian looks at the wound once more, before sitting back, accepting Jim's explanation without question. Good boy. Jim lets his shirt fall back into place with a vague hum. "Painkillers not really helping as much as you'd like?"

"They take the edge off, but I still feel it."

"Stitches itch?"

"Sometimes. It seems worse at night."

“Wish there was something could be done."

"It's fine. They'll be healed up in no time."

"I'm impressed you're getting around so well."

"It's only a few stitches. Can't let them stop me."

"It's a gash up your side is what it is. I really am impressed."

Pressing his pleased smile against the rim of his cup, Jim takes a sip of his tea to disguise it.

"So, what is it, then. What do you need done? I'm officially volunteering myself as your manservant for the day. Since it's my day off anyway."

"I..." This is exactly what Jim wanted, and now he has nothing for Sebastian to do. It's awful. "Nothing, particularly."

"What, nothing? No messages need doing? No groceries bought in? No cleaning or cooking or washing or ironing or anything?"

"Oh! Some ice cream would be nice."

"Yeah?” Sebastian smiles. “Alright. What flavour?"

"Mint chocolate chip."

"And that's all you need? No more gauze or tape or prescriptions?"

Jim's used to being self sufficient, so he's all up to date on everything he needs. He considers for a moment. He has been taking an awful lot of tablets on a mostly empty stomach. Might be sensible to eat.

“Something else that is edible, perhaps.”

“Any hints to what you might like to eat?”

“Whatever's easy to make.”

“Okay.” Sebastian nods, making a mental note. “You don't have any, eh... Allergies or foods you hate, right?”

"No allergies. Nothing I particularly dislike."

"Alright then." Sebastian rises. "Is there any laundry I can put in the wash while I'm out?"

"There's a hamper in the bathroom."

Sebastian heads off to get the hamper, and Jim watches him go. Oh yes, man slave. He returns a few moments later, filling the washing machine. Wash on, he tugs on his jacket.

"Alright, mint chocolate chip ice cream and something edible and easy to cook. I'll be back in a bit. If you think of anything else you need when I'm out, send me a text, yeah?" Sebastian lifts Jim's phone when he spots it out of reach, setting it on the arm of the couch. "You, don't move. Is there anything you need moved closer so you can stay put?"

Jim shakes his head. Even in all his planning to make Sebastian answer to his commands, he hadn't expected this level of eagerness and attentiveness. He has a few connections that answer to him, but he's not yet powerful enough to know what it's like to have people bend to your every whim. This is new and exciting, in a way that makes him giddy. He doesn't realise that Sebastian just sees it as being a good friend.

"I should survive until you get back."

"Alright then, I'll be back– Can I take your keys so you don't have to get up when I come back?"

"Sure. They're on the bookshelf, second from the top."

“Right.” Sebastian retrieves the keys, heading for the door. “Back soon then. Bye.”

Jim could get used to this.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian delivers vengeance as well as post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings;  
> drug abuse (Jim's still popping painkillers)  
> graphic violence

Jim is in a sleepy pile on the couch when Sebastian returns, lying on his uninjured side. He's watching some history documentary, or staring at it, at least. The little blanket he keeps on the back of the couch is draped over him. Sebastian's first stop is the cutlery cupboard, to retrieve a spoon, and he sets it with the tub of ice cream on the arm of the couch.

"Do you want another cup of tea?"

“Mmmm.”

Jim drags himself up into a sitting position with a little mewling yawn, shifting the blanket so it's wrapped around him like a shawl. Off pops the lid, and he moans around the first spoonful of ice cream, a nice noise that Sebastian chooses to ignore, flicking on the kettle.

"Let me know when you start to get hungry for... real food, yeah?"

"Will do."

Jim slowly scoops up thin little curls of ice cream, letting them melt in his mouth. He can hear Sebastian in the kitchen, absently humming as he washes their cups. Once the kettle boils, he brings Jim through his new cup of tea, before going to sort the washing. When Jim bores of his ice cream, he holds the tub up, and Sebastian puts it back in the freezer.

This, Jim thinks, is the life he was born for.

“Anything else, boss?” Sebastian asks, coming back to sit beside Jim. And oh, Jim does like the way _that_ sounds.

"That'll do for now." He gives Sebastian a pat on the thigh. "Good boy."

"Still not a dog,” Sebastian replies, but he's smiling.

"Still my good boy."

"Gonna put me off being so nice to you if you keep saying shit like that."

"It's a complimeeeent. Shhh. Just take it." Jim's words trail slow and lazily from his tongue, a side effect of swallowing painkillers like they're going out of style. He pets the inside of Sebastian's thigh. "Shhh. Good boy."

The touch makes Sebastian uncomfortable, and he shifts. Distraction, distraction.

"You want a massage or something? Foot rub or back or something?"

"If you're offering." Jim smiles, followed by a frown. "Do I have to move much?"

“Not too much. What do you want; foot or shoulder?”

"Shoulder."

Jim shuffles around so his back is to Sebastian, and Sebastian shifts in to position. He's fine with contact, as long as he's initiating it and taking control. He puts those big hands to good use, starting gently, working his fingers in to Jim's shoulders. Jim's a little tense at first, because as much as he loves having attention focused on him, he's never received much positive physical contact (outside of sex). He gradually relaxes, leaning back into Sebastian's touch with a little sigh. As Sebastian starts increasing intensity, little noises will start to slip from Jim; quiet sighs, and pleased hums.

“Are you making sex noises?”

“You're good, but you're not quite that good,” Jim says, except there was definitely a little whimper at one point there, and he has definitely made that noise in bed before.

"I'll still take that as a compliment." Sebastian chuckles, working his way down to Jim's lower back, trying to evoke noise from him now. Just to prove he can. He knows what he's doing; has used this quite a few times to get women relaxed enough to close the deal. He is rewarded with a soft, drawn out moan from Jim.

“Now that is definitely a sex noise,” Sebastian says, smug.

"You have no idea what my sex noises are." There's a lazy tone of playfulness to Jim's voice, completely unashamed.

"I can tell."

"Oh, we have a sex psychic in the room."

"Just experienced."

"Not with men, sweetheart."

"I'm a man."

"Wow. Sample size: one man. Must be an accurate study."

"If that's not your sex noise, what is?"

"Are you requesting a performance?" Jim tips his head back so he can meet Sebastian's eye.

"Just giving you the chance to prove me wrong."

"I wail like a cat. Constant wailing. All in one pitch. Then when I come, I talk in tongues, and sob for five minutes afterwards."

That surprises a laugh from Sebastian.

"Nice."

"It's a beautiful experience for everyone involved."

"I'll take your word for it." Sebastian's hands picking up their movement, working into the small of Jim's back.

"Go- _oooh_ -od."

Sebastian smirks, relaxing back into a rhythm, glancing at Jim's neck. If he were a girl, Sebastian would be on that right now, working it with his mouth. A breathy gasp escapes Jim when Sebastian presses his thumbs in along his spine, and he's enjoying those noises more than he should. Trying not to think about them too much, trying not to imagine what he would be doing if Jim were a girl. No, no.

Jim's not used to being handled like this. Even when he beds people, there's usually an edge to it; some sort of cloaked violence, a little fight. Sebastian is being gentle with him. Sebastian is focusing entirely on making him feel good. He lets his head fall back against Sebastian's shoulder with a desperate little whine and- ... did he actually just make _that_ noise? Okay Jim, calm down a bit, he tells himself. We're not a needy virgin.

Sebastian's smug attitude is starting to falter. He's not gay, but he's still human. Having someone pressed back against him, making noises like that, losing control... He can't keep himself from picturing sexual scenarios, no matter how hard he tries to think of unattractive things. It's becoming a problem. He swallows, subtly adjusting his position, because he can feel himself starting to get hard and he does _not_ want Jim to notice under any circumstances. Doesn't think he'd come out of that alive.

Slowing his pace, Sebastian eases up the intensity until his hands have stilled. Jim quiets down as Sebastian slows his hands, only humming softly. He remains against Sebastian when he's done for a few seconds before his eyelashes flutter open, and he lets out a little sigh.

"Where have you been all my life?" he murmurs, and he should move, but he feels quite boneless now.

"Yeah well, this is a one time thing, don't get used to it."

"Perhaps I should get myself stabbed more often." Jim gives a little chuckle, and if he hadn't taken god knows how many tablets he'd probably pick up on Sebastian's discomfort, but he's all fuzzy around the edges; light and floating, and beneath his skin is softly vibrating. He shifts himself with one last, soft moan, rolling his shoulders.

"Well, that's just not funny." Finally, Jim is off him, and he puts space between them, folding one leg over the other to disguise his half hard cock. "Is there anything else you want, anything needs done? Anything at all? Window cleaning? Hoovering? General cleaning? Anything that needs fixed?"

"Nothing I can think of, but if you're so eager to act the maid, you can dust or something."

Jim is relaxed and drowsy again, doesn't care much what Sebastian gets up to now. He settles down on his blanket like a cat, staring vacantly at the television without really taking it in. He hasn't felt this completely relaxed in a long time. Maybe he _should_ get injured more often.

Sebastian gives himself a minute or so, before he gets up and washes Jim's mug again. He presses himself against the kitchen counter as he does so, and when that doesn't work, he disappears to the bathroom. He doesn't understand the tingling sensation beneath his skin; doesn't understand this reaction at all. He absently tidies the bathroom, even though it doesn't really need it.

Eventually, he will emerge again, relieved to find Jim sleeping. He's barely been sleeping since he came back from the hospital. Every time he shifts in the night the pain wakes him, so his body is eager to grab whatever rest it can. Sebastian drapes Jim's blanket over him, and wonders if he should go home.

He did say he'd hang around all day, though, so he actually does do some dusting; the tops of things that are usually out of reach. He can't find anything else that needs cleaned when he's done, so he settles into an arm chair to watch TV, trying not to think about Jim.

Jim stirs a couple of times, occasionally making a soft sound, but it's only a few hours later, when he tries to roll over, that he wakes with a little whimper.

"Shit." Jim blinks blearily. He's groggy, and momentarily unaware that Sebastian is there. Groaning, he reaches down to press on his wound, hissing sharply. “Fuck.”

Sebastian's head whips around so sharply at the noise that is almost comes off. He watches Jim closely, trying to figure out if there's anything he can do. He clears his throat to remind Jim of his presence.

“What do you need?”

Jim's eyes flick up immediately, narrowed at Sebastian for a moment before he thinks; ah, yes, he was here, that's right.

“Ugh. Give me a minute." He struggles to pull himself into a sitting position. Sebastian wants to help, but he knows Jim will only bat him away, so he waits. A few minutes pass before Jim speaks again. “Drink.”

Sebastian retrieves Jim a glass of water. He downs half of it in one go, just to clear the gross taste from his mouth.

“Do you think you might want to eat soon?” Sebastian asks. “It'll take me a while cooking.

Jim makes a sound that could be taken for approval or agreement. Yes. Maybe. Yes, okay. Sebastian nods, slipping in to the kitchen to cook. This keeps him busy for a good forty minutes or so, humming to himself. He adapts to the kitchen quickly, even though Jim's is rather lacking, and he has to improvise some of the utensils. He loves this; cooking, just following instructions in his head, executing them perfectly. Jim's head pops up over the back of the couch, sniffing, and it actually smells pretty good.

“What're you making?”

“Uh.” Sebastian turns, surprised, as if he forgot Jim even existed, and he feels a bit awkward as he answers. “Well, I've got pork chops going with a brown sugar glaze, and I'm making a diced watermelon and cucumber salad to go with it. Hope that's something you'd eat?”

"That sounds interesting." Jim's culinary finesse does not expand beyond food that can be made in the oven or microwave, so the prospect of real food is actually quite exciting.

Sebastian keeps himself busy for another fifteen minutes. He leaves leftovers to cool, and puts all the dishes in the sink to steep. Then he brings two plates of food in to the living room, handing Jim the smaller portion, because he knows Jim eats less than him. Sebastian settles in the armchair, leaving Jim to sprawl on the couch.

“Ehh, bon appetite?”

Jim pokes at his food, before taking a very small bite, testing. Deeming it acceptable, Jim nods.

“You're a man of many talents.”

Sebastian smiles. He doesn't need to go fishing for compliments, the fact that Jim is eating says enough.

“There's some leftovers, too, so you won't have to cook or order in for a bit.”

"Cool."

Jim manages to eat nearly the whole plate, only leaving the last few bites. When they're done, Sebastian rises to wash the dishes, leaving Jim to nurse his swollen tummy. It's when he's drying that Jim follows him in to the kitchen to take more painkillers.

“I would have brought you those,” Sebastian says.

"I need to pee anyway. Sure you can't do that for me."

"Yeah, fair enough."

Jim hobbles off to the bathroom, and when he returns, Sebastian is back in his usual spot on the couch. He lowers himself carefully beside him, rolling up his shirt to apply cream to his stitches. Sebastian watches, biting his lip.

“Want any help?”

“It's not particularly challenging. I'm sure I can manage.”

Jim gently dabs cream over his wound, making sure it's spread evenly. He leaves his shirt up when he's finished, giving the cream time to dry so it doesn't stick. Sebastian realises he is still staring. He clears his throat, abruptly looking away.

"You need anything else, or would you rather I leave you alone?"

"If you have somewhere to be, you can leave. You don't have to babysit me."

"I don't have anywhere to be. And I'm hardly babysitting. Like I said, man servant for the day, eh?"

"You don't sound thrilled at being stuck here." Jim frowns, looking Sebastian over. He's aware of the change in his behaviour, but he can't place why.

"I'm not stuck here."

"As long as you know that."

“Yeah, yeah. Just don't want to be... all up in your space, or whatever."

"If I wanted you gone, I'd say."

"Yeah, I know, I know. But so far you've not said that, and for all your complaining, I find it hard to believe you've wanted me around constantly."

"You're not so bad.” Jim shrugs. “You're like furniture. I'm getting used to you being there."

“Not sure that's a compliment."

"An observation."

"... Still doesn't sound good."

Jim fires Sebastian a sly little smile, before his eyes flick back to the TV. Sebastian sighs, lounging back against the couch.

"I think I'm actually finally out of things to do for you."

"Such a good little housewife, aren't you?"

"Alright, no need to be an asshole when I've spent all day helping you out. Out of the goodness of my heart."

"That was a compliment, darling. I appreciate you being my little home maker."

"You refer to me as your wife one more time, and I will actually just leave."

Jim looks at Sebastian sullenly; big, wide puppy dog eyes, and pouty lower lip. Sebastian eyes linger just a moment too long before he stares resolutely at the TV.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Jim whines in the back of his throat. Lets his eyes water just a touch. Sebastian glances back at him, deadpan.

“What?”

Jim tilts his head to the side. Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

“What?” There is an aggressive bite to his voice this time. “You're gonna have to use your words, Jimmy.”

“It's Jim.” Jim gives him a sharp kick in the thigh. Sebastian catches his foot, grips it tight, stares at him hard; we don't kick. Jim flops back with a sigh. “I'm injurrrred.”

"So you shouldn't strain yourself by kicking."

Jim kicks with his other foot. Sebastian catches that as well.

“No kicking.” Jim wriggles against his hold, whining. “Stop. You'll pop a stitch.”

Sebastian gives it a moment, making sure Jim won't lash out again, before releasing his feet. He smirks, reaching forward to ruffle Jim's hair.

“Good boy.” He lingers for a moment, fingers still in Jim's hair, before dropping back into his seat.

“That's _my_ line.” Jim sullenly dumps his feet on Sebastian's lap. “Although, you're not a good boy any more.”

"Because I won't let you boot me?"

"Hmpf."

Jim presses his heels into Sebastian's thigh. Sebastian rolls his eyes, but he starts absently rubbing at Jim's feet, a half hearted massage to distract him. It works enough to calm Jim down, and he settles quietly, eventually flicking through his phone.

“Am I boring you?”

“Have things I need to check.”

“Expecting really important parcels?”

“Not quite.” Jim smirks, glancing at Sebastian over his phone before his eyes flick down again.

"More dinner parties to attend?"

"Noooope."

"Big secret, is it?"

Jim's smile widens a fraction.

"Just having a few thesis' published. No big deal."

That throws Sebastian. Definitely not what he was expecting. He blinks, looking at Jim with increased interest.

“Seriously?”

“Mhmm.” Jim plays nonchalant. He's aware of how clever he is; he doesn't have to flaunt it.

“About what?”

"Physics, mostly. And a couple on mathematics."

Jim gives Sebastian a brief overview. He doesn't understand half of it, but he's well impressed.

"I had no idea you were an academic. You kept that quiet."

"You never asked. It never came up." Jim shrugs.

"What else have you been keeping from me, eh?"

"Nothing you'd be interested in, I'm sure."

"Try me."

"With what? I don't know what you'd want to know."

“Anything. Just tell me about yourself. I don't... actually really know anything about you."

"You know lots about me, doofus."

"Well, I know bits and pieces."

"What else do you want to know?"

"I don't know what to ask if I don't know what you have to say."

"That's the stupidest thing I've heard you say in a while."

"I just wouldn't know what to ask, alright.” Sebastian frowns. “It's easier for you to just... tell me things."

"I don't know what things to tell you."

“Anything interesting. I don't know.”

"I'm a Scorpio."

“What's that... eh, November?”

"October. 25th. No excuse to not shower me in gifts now."

"Awh shit, yeah. Now I know. Good thing that's a long way away. You might have spiked my coffee by then."

"Can't kill you if you're going to buy me pretty things,” Jim says, giggling. Sebastian snorts.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I can speak six different languages."

"Which ones? I mean, apart from English and Italian."

"Irish, French, German and Russian."

Sebastian is considerably impressed. He would never have expected Jim to be that intelligent.

“That's amazing, Jim.”

"Go raibth maith agat."

"I'd left Ireland by the time I was old enough to start learning languages at school. Shame that."

"It's not particularly useful. A dying language, but I don't like to learn things in half measures." Jim glances down at Sebastian. "I could teach you some phrases."

“Yeah?” Sebastian smiles.

"Yeah. So, what I just said was thank you. Okay. There's no actual word for hello because the Irish are strange as fuck, but basically you say: dia duit (which means God be with you)." Jim pauses to pull a face at this. "And then, as if battling to prove your devotion, the responding phrase is God and Mary be with you; dia is Muire duit. That would be a formal greeting to one person. You say dia daoibh if you're greeting a group."

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, quietly repeating those phrases in the hopes of remembering them easier.

"Religious people and their religious sayings, eh?” he says. “Watched a documentary a while ago that had a bit like that. There's like a different language basically in Bavaria, they greet each other just casually by saying, ehh... Grüß Gott. Which I swear I only remember because it sounds like great Scott. But it means may God greet you? What's up with that?"

Jim laughs.

"You can say haigh instead. It's the informal version, same as English. Spelt different. H-A-I-G-H. Cad é mar atá tú is 'how are you'? But it works as casual greeting as well."

"Ca jimmer ma tattoo?" Sebastian frowns.

"Close enough." Jim grins, amused.

"Ever think of being a teacher?"

"My tutors told me I could have been a professor, but I don't have the patience for teaching."

Sebastian purses his lips. He'd abandoned Jim's feet while he was distracted, but he returns to absently rubbing them.

"Professor Moriarty. Gotta admit, it has a ring to it."

"It does, doesn't it? But no. Not for me."

"Would make a great super villain name too, though." Sebastian puts on one of those exaggerated b movie vampire voices. “Beware of the great, the powerful, the terrifyingly evil professor Moriarty! Mwuahahahahaha!”

Jim pulls a face, but he breaks by the end and giggles.

“That's me.”

“Yeah, I knew it all along.”

"That I was all powerful or evil?"

"Both."

"Fair enough."

"No denials. Ohh, interesting."

"I did just say that's me, didn't I? Amadán."

"Amawhat?"

"Amadán. Idiot."

"... Amadán."

"Idiot."

"Ah... right. That's good. Always know when you're insulting me now. Great."

"Excuse me. I can insult you in six different languages."

"Lucky me."

"Right?"

"You could also definitely compliment me in six languages. Just saying."

"I wouldn't know what to say."

"I'm sure it can't be that hard."

Jim stares at Sebastian for a solid fifteen seconds.

"Nothing."

"Just trying to save face? That's alright. I know you're bullshitting."

"Right, yeah. Course. That's it."

"You've said nice things before. Am I supposed to believe the sentiment disappeared?"

"I merely tell you things when you're deserving of them."

"Well, there you go. There are some things you like about me."

"On occasion."

"Don't be a pussy. Just own up and admit it. You like me."

"On occasion."

"You can do better than that."

"It's true. Sometimes you're rather annoying."

"Like when?"

"Every so often."

"Like when?"

"Like now."

Sebastian smirks, pressing his fingers more firmly against Jim's foot.

“Oh, yeah?”

"Mmmm-hmmm."

"You sure?" Sebastian focuses on the sensitive part of Jim's sole. Jim inhales sharply.

“Oh, _yesss_.”

“Really sure?"

"Quite."

Sebastian stops.

"Guess that's that, then."

Jim stifles his own whine of protest. He refuses to play into this. Sebastian cracks his knuckles, looking at Jim innocently. Jim looks away. Amadán. They watch TV in silence, and after a few minutes, Sebastian tentatively places a hand on Jim's foot. When he's given no resistance, he starts rubbing again. Jim doesn't look up, but the corner of his mouth does curl ever so slightly.

“Is nothing else on?” Sebastian asks.

"Remote's on your side. On the table."

Sebastian settles on Come Dine With Me, continuing to rub Jim's feet, while Jim amuses himself with his phone. When he's done, he starts making comments about the contestants, while Sebastian critiques the cooking.

"Ugh, Jesus. There's a cat just wandering about everywhere. They'll be pulling more hairs out of their teeth than lesbian tree-huggers."

"They're gonna fuck. Those two. At the end of the week."

"Are you commanding or predicting?"

"Neither. I'm telling you."

"How would you even..." Sebastian watches as the pair come on screen again. "Yeah actually... I hope they don't show it. That would be a different show."

"They won't. They're clever enough not to do it until after the week. She wins the money. They go home together and get rid of the tension they've built up. Those two go home alone as losers. He has a wife, but she'll not be happy with him losing."

"How could you know that for certain. You have no idea what people are really thinking."

"I can tell," Jim says, smiling wisely. Sebastian stares at him

“So what am I thinking?”

"You think I'm full of shit."

“Yeah okay. Fine. That was easy. But, how about now." The first thing that pops into Sebastian's head is Jim's moaning, and his own reaction to it.

Jim smiles, pushing up on his elbows to get a better look. His smile falters slightly, and he leans forward, eyes narrowing. He licks his lips and tilts his head, wondering if he's reading wrong. Sebastian stares him down, trying to keep his face blank.

“What?”

“You're uncomfortable.” Jim scrunches up his nose.

“You actually sound like one of those bullshit psychics."

Jim rolls his eyes.

"The second you asked me you automatically tensed up. Shoulders, thighs. You've shifted into a straighter position. You asked, but you don't want me to know. You're not making direct eye contact."

"You just read body language then, you can't secretly hear voices?"

"No one can hear voices. I observe, I'm not telepathic. Body language is the biggest give away. There's little cues too, sometimes."

"So the most you can pick up from me is discomfort? That's it?" Sebastian sounds almost hopeful, almost relieved. Jim's eyes flick down over his body.

"And... arousal. Are you thinking about sex? Really?" Jim frowns, disapproving.

Sebastian's poker face falters; a little flicker of shock. He shifts, glancing away, awkward, before he disguises it with a smirk, playing cocky.

“Well, you know. Every seven seconds and all that.”

"You could have given me a challenge, at least."

Sebastian cringes a little, stealing a glance at Jim again. Hoping that is all he knows. This weird cluster of feelings is bad enough without Jim finding out.

"So if I took you out to a bar or something, theoretically, you could tell me who's likely, who's interested, and who not to waste time and money on?"

"I could, yes." Jim doesn't look at Sebastian, but there's a bite to his words. "But I'm not going to."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Why would I? Let you drag me into a place crowded with drunken idiots, only for you to abandon me for a shag? I don't think so."

"Jesus, alright. What crawled up your arse?"

"I'm not a tool for your amusement."

"It was just theoretical. What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"

Bad choice of words.

"Nothing's _wrong_ with me." Jim sits up, ignoring the pain in his side, and pulls his legs under himself so he's pressed into the corner of the couch. There's nothing wrong with him. He's better. He's advanced. He's... aware Sebastian didn't mean that, but it still sets off the noise in his head.

“Jim, I just...” Sebastian frowns, tense, voice softer. “Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.”

"Right." Jim stares angrily ahead, and he's just as angry at himself for reacting as he is at Sebastian. These things don't usually affect him any more. He's better than that now. Except he apparently isn't, because his skin is crawling with it, and he wants nothing more to scratch and tear until it's all out of him. He settles for biting down into his tongue.

Sebastian is quiet for a long time.

“Should I go?”

"If you want." Jim's voice is clipped, detached, not betraying himself any more than necessary. His eyes flick from the screen to Sebastian, but only for a second.

"I don't really. Not when I've said something and fucked up. Not sure I wanna leave things on bad terms. But if you'd rather me piss off, that's fine."

This time Jim looks properly, eyes narrowed into angry little slits.

"I said I'm fine, Sebastian. You haven't said anything, as if I'd take any notice of anything your moronic mouth could produce." Jim smirks, shaking his head. "Amadán."

Sebastian drags a hand through his hair, looking away from Jim. Trying to keep calm. Fuck, he's so infuriating sometimes. Sebastian doesn't know where he stands. He looks back at the TV.

“You really think she'll win? That Terry fella looks like he might be a dark horse.”

"I don't think she'll win, I know she will. Terry won't get over 30. He's confident, but none of them like him enough to give him decent scores."

"You reckon I could win a show like this?"

"You could bribe everyone with back rubs."

Sebastian chuckles.

"I'd offer you another to tempt you out of that corner, but I wouldn't want to spoil you too much. You'll be thinking I'm always going to bend over backwards for you."

"You love spoiling me." Jim glances sideways at Sebastian. "Or rather, you love have someone to boss you around."

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, before frowning, accepting.

"I do actually... sort of."

"Of course you do. You've been told what to do all your life, in one way or another. You miss the structure. You miss the comfort of not having to make your own decisions. And you can't rebel if there's no one to act out against."

“No, yeah.” Sebastian shrugs, light hearted. “That sounds pretty accurate.”

"I wasn't asking, I was telling you."

"I'm just agreeing, calm down. You don't really need to tell me about my own life, do you?"

"Sometimes people aren't aware of their own behaviours. You'd be surprised how much some people can repress."

"Yeah, I guess so. But I'm not oblivious to this. I'm not saying I'd enjoy you being an asshole and thrusting things at me or demanding I do something. I'd still rather be your mate than your manservant. But yeah, I'm finding it weird being free. Still. After years. Having any free time is weird. Having no one tell you what to do, and when and how, is weird. And before, I didn't realise how easy it was and how comfortable I was when I didn't have to think for myself. I know why. This isn't news to me because I think about it every other day. It's not a nice thing to realise. I've basically been trained my whole life to be someone's attack dog."

"Calm down, Fido. I'm not going to make you drop and give me twenty. You're the one that's been biting at my ankles all day for something to do. Maybe you need to find yourself a bossy little bitch of a girlfriend for a while. Might make you a little less eager to jump to commands."

Sebastian watches Jim, and it occurs to him how much Jim actually is like a bossy little bitch of a girlfriend. Without the perk of fucking. Not that he wants to fuck Jim. Fuck. No. Sebastian clears his throat.

“Told you girlfriends aren't my style. And anyway, the only reason I've been asking you for things to do is to make sure you get the most out of this, because it's not happening again."

Yeah right Sebastian. Jim knows all he has to do is suggest something in the right tone and you'll be offering to do it like it was your idea.

"I know you said that, but maybe you should give it a go. As I said, might put that compulsion out of you." Jim puts his feet on the floor and sighs, before pushing himself up onto his feet. "I'm fed up being stuck in here."

“Where are you going?"

"To get dressed."

"You're going out?"

"Yep." Jim moves towards the hall. Sebastian stands.

“Where?"

"Anywhere. For a walk."

"You have a hole in your side."

"I am aware," Jim calls from the bedroom. This shirt will suffice. He pulls a jacket from the wardrobe and navigates himself into it.

"You think it's a good idea?"

"I think it's a great idea." Why do all his trousers have buttons? Why does he have no elasticated ones? Well, because they're ugly and don't fit his shape as well. Still. He steps out of his pj bottoms and has to sit on the bed to put his pants on.

"I'm coming with you, then." Sebastian frowns down the hall after Jim.

"Fine." Jim intended that anyway. He pulls on the most comfortable pair of jeans he has, and he has too much pride to ask for help with his socks and shoes.

"Need any help in there?"

"I can dress myself." Even if it does hurt to bend.

"Buckshot to the ass, Jim. Buckshot to the ass."

Jim snorts out a laugh, which doesn't help with the pain. He comes out a few minutes later, and takes a couple more painkillers before lifting his keys. Sebastian has his jacket on already, has turned off the TV and lights, and is waiting by the door.

“Sure you're ready to go walkies?”

"You're supposed to walk your dog daily, right? Come on, boy." Jim pats his thigh encouragingly as he walks out the door.

"I'm coming outside because I want to, not because I'm a dog."

"Good boy."

Jim locks the door and hobbles off towards the elevator, because there's no way he can manage the stairs today, no sir. He's significantly slower than usual, but hobbles along at his own pace, just happy to be out of the flat for a while. Sebastian follows closely, watching Jim carefully, like he might have to catch him at any moment. He keeps pace with Jim, even if it means awkwardly slowing his natural stride.

“Don't you have any clothes for walking in?"

"I am perfectly capable of walking in these clothes."

Jim leads the way out on to the street. He turns right on impulse, starts walking along the pavement.

"Yeah but, you'd be so much more comfortable in something that can stretch."

"I'm comfortable in this. Not like I'm running a marathon."

"Not like you could."

"No. That's your kind of thing. Maybe you should; that would keep you busy for a while-"

Jim is cut off when someone suddenly yanks him into an alley. He just has time to process who it is, the brother of the man who stabbed him, before he's slammed against the wall with a hand around his throat. Jim is aware of the brother's existence, but how the fuck does he know where Jim lives?

He doesn't have the chance to ask before Sebastian is dragging the man away, disarming him, sending the concealed knife clattering to the ground. He twists the man's arm behind his back, and slams his face full force against the wall before he even has time to process what's happening. Again. And again. Until he has gone from rapid swearing in Italian, to quiet, pained groaning. Sebastian lets him drop after that, dragging him back up by the collar, punching him in the stomach hard enough to wind him.

He glances across at Jim.

“You alright?”

Jim has slid down the wall, clutching his injured side, breathing elevated. His head is throbbing from where it came in to contact with the wall. Everything is ringing and white spots are flashing across his vision. He's used to taking a beating though, so he keeps his feet planted, refuse to sink to the ground. He nods at Sebastian, feeling rather queasy.

“Y-yeah,” Jim stutters, acting stunned. His eyes move past Sebastian, scanning the alley for back up, but it's empty. Not an ambush then; just a revenge attempt.

Sebastian's breathing is coming heavy and ragged. He can feel the surging adrenaline, but more strongly, the overwhelming _need_ to protect Jim. The desire to destroy. His hold on the Italian is tight. He watches Jim, and his voice is low and dark when he speaks again.

“What do you want me to do with him?"

Jim's eyes flick back to Sebastian, big and dark, pupils blown wide, for a different reason than Sebastian would ever consider. His lower lip quivers, and he lets his eyes well up a bit.

"I-I think-" Jim touches his throat where he was grabbed, as if it hurts to speak. "I think he's the one that mugged me."

He wants to see what Sebastian will do of his own accord.

Sebastian's jaw tightens; so easily drawn in to Jim's act. The same anger he felt when he first found out about the attack flares up again. The protectiveness over Jim that he didn't understand then has only intensified since, and he can feel it taking over. His attention goes back to the Italian, and he looks at him with disgust, until he can't take it any more. Then he is punching, over and over again, until the man's face is a bloody mess. Sebastian lets him drop, only so he can start kicking him. His side; the same place the bastard stabbed Jim. Over and over, lost to his own aggression, not even thinking of Jim, not thinking of anything.

The alley is full of the hard thuds of Sebastian's foot connecting with the Italian over and over. Jim's completely captivated. He knew Sebastian had anger and aggression issues, but he'd never expected this. His jaw is slacked, lips are parted at the sight. He feels a rush of heat spark through his veins like electric; adrenaline and arousal both stirring in response, and his body is suddenly a live wire of feeling, pain forgotten. There's a certain kind of rush to killing, but this, this is new, exciting. He can't deny the little thread of pride, either. Sebastian has done well for him, so, so well; his good boy. He swallows when he realises how much saliva has gathered in his mouth. Probably should stir into action before anyone walks past and thinks to look down the alley, but- wow. He's still dizzy with the rush of it all.

Sebastian only stops when he feels like he's breathing smoke; each drag of air burning the whole way to his lungs, cutting his throat on its way out. His hand is crippled and bloody by his side, and he looks down at the Italian, at what's left of him. Doesn't seem like he'll be doing much ever again. When that thought reaches Sebastian, he backs himself against the wall, eyes wide. But he can't look away.

"Sebastian." It comes out like a purr, all low and breathy, practically dripping pleasure.

Sebastian's head snaps up at the sound of his name, remembering Jim's presence. He's clutching his bloody hand as he stares, because he has no words, no idea what to say. He didn't expect this of himself. He wants, no, he _needs_ Jim to tell him what to do. He doesn't care if it's a demand or an order, he just needs something. Anything.

Jim licks his lips, slowly, and he looks at Sebastian as if he could devour him. His eyes are almost completely pupil now, two small black holes, and he feels like he's just had the best fuck of his life.

"We have to dispose of the body." There's a huskiness to his voice, and his accent is thicker than usual, the way he sounds when he's aroused or furious. "That's our priority."

Jim looks at the body. Burning probably the best method, but how to get him to a suitable place? This is why Jim's kills are never so messy. Still, he's too pleased to care much about the inconvenience.

Sebastian's eyes never move from Jim. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he can taste blood, realises he must be covered in a spray of it from the Italian. He must look a mess. He can't go out on the street like this. Can't just leave him here. He's never had to worry about disposal before, it's never been a priority. He doesn't know what to do. His breathing is steadying, but his heart is beating loud and erratic in his chest. He's not panicking. He's just killed a man, but he has an odd sense of clarity. Of peace.

“Tell me what to do.”

Jim ignores the pain in his side, the throbbing at the back of his head, the way the blood contrasts so deliciously against Sebastian's skin– No. Focus now. He steps away from the wall, frowning down at the body. No way they can take it out on to the street at this hour. They've been lucky so far that no one has walked past. Can't rely on that lasting.

"I'm going to make sure no one looks down. You get him in one of those bins. Chop chop."

Sebastian pulls his sleeves over his hands, opening the bin furthest down the alley. Never mind his cut knuckles; the fact his blood is probably all over the Italian. He scoops up the body and dumps it unceremoniously in the bin, rearranging the contents to disguise it, before slamming the lid down.

"Make more noise, why don't you," Jim whispers, coming back from the entrance, but there's no real bite to it. He's still too pleased with Sebastian's display. "We need to get you cleaned up. Come. Home. Stagger a bit. If we get caught on CCTV it'll just look like you're a drunk that got in a bar fight. I'll work out what to do from there."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Jim deals with the evidence, it's becoming clear to Sebastian he's more than what he seems. They celebrate their first team murder with more shit TV and their first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:  
> Jim's still popping painkillers like they're Smarties  
> Sebastian's a whopping homophobe, but that's pretty much a constant thing

Sebastian ruffles up his hair, and once they step in to the open, he hangs his head; his best impression of being drunk, and let's face it, he's had a lot of practice. Jim would support him to make it more realistic, but he's not in great shape himself. Anyway, he likes this jacket, he doesn't want Sebastian to get blood all over it. They never got far in the first place, so it's not long until they're back at the flat.

"Clothes off and in a bag. Anything that has blood on it has to go."

Sebastian's jaw clenches for a moment, but he won't argue. Jim's flying through plans in his head as Sebastian strips. Best get the CCTV tape for tonight just in case. He knows the hours the office is empty, so that shouldn't be too difficult tomorrow. Retrieving a bin bag from beneath the sink, he holds it out for Sebastian's clothes. There goes his favourite jacket. Then the shirt, the exposed t-shirt beneath it, followed by shoes and his jeans. Down to just his socks and boxers, exposing every scar, and the name 'Patricia' tattooed across his hip. Jim watches with clinical interest, doesn't look him over like he usually would. Doesn't linger on his skin, try to read the marks there. No time.

"Shower. Cold at first, it will get rid of the blood better. Don't come out until you're spotless."

Jim heads down the hall first so he can fetch towels and leave them by the sink. Then he leaves Sebastian to shower, scrubbing obsessively at himself, his face; rubbing until his skin burns. Which is good, because at least it counters the cold water. He's relieved when he can switch to hot and warm up. When he's done, he'll check himself over in the mirror, make sure he hasn't missed any spots of blood. Meanwhile, Jim makes a series of calls, pulls in quite a few favours and debts, and within half an hour and a killer headache, he's got someone to get rid of the body for them.

Sebastian pulls on his boxers, keeping towel around his shoulders for warmth. He emerges from the bathroom, hovering in the doorway of the living room, where he finds Jim.

“What's the word?”

Jim's still on the phone, and he makes a series of hushing signals, ushering Sebastian into the bedroom and out of the way while he sorts out the last few details. Sebastian stops himself from sighing, and obediently takes himself off to the bedroom. He perches on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees as he waits. When Jim finally comes through, the adrenaline rush has faded; his head is killing him, the pain has flared up in his side again (he thinks one of his stitches have burst), and he's just aching and exhausted. He flops down beside Sebastian with a little hiss, staring up at the ceiling.

"You don't have to worry about anything. I've had it taken care of,” he says.

Sebastian frowns, looking down at him.

"What do you mean you've had it taken care of?"

"I've got someone to deal with it. No point smearing our DNA everywhere."

Sebastian takes a few seconds to process that. He blinks, confused, finding it difficult to comprehend.

"What, you have a... body disposal guy?"

"Not precisely." Jim rubs at his temples, not in the mood for twenty questions right now. "But I found someone."

"I appreciate that you're clearly hurting,” Sebastian says. “But you're going to have to give me more than that."

"I'm covering your ass. I think that's all you really need to know."

Sebastian's mouth opens, then closes again. He goes through this process a few times as he tries to find words.

“You're a product tester. You get papers published. Why do you know people who can deal with this? I'm ex-military and I don't even know if I could get that done so quickly, or at all."

“Maybe you should go to more dinner parties." Then Jim is giggling, bordering on manic, and each bout sends bolts of pain up his side, but that isn't enough to stop him.

Sebastian stands, shaking his head. He needs space to think. He disappears from the room for ten minutes, returning with water and painkillers for Jim. He doesn't know what's happening. Doesn't really know how he got himself in this situation in the first place, but if Jim says they're safe, well. He has to trust that or wait for the police to turn up. This definitely isn't how he expected his day to turn out. He hands Jim the tablets, then sits to examine his torn up knuckles. Can't even stretch out his hand any more.

Jim's already had painkillers, but he doesn't tell Sebastian that. Once his giggling passes, he sits up an downs the new ones. He can still smell the copper blood smell of death, but that might just be his memory, vivid enough to seem real.

"There's disinfectant and a first aid kit in the bathroom, above the sink,” he says. “Bring them in."

Sebastian's face is expressionless, but he fetches the first aid kit like a good boy. On his return, he starts fiddling with it, but he's fairly useless without the use of his injured hand. Jim snatches the box without a word.

"Hand."

He takes the disinfectant first, soaking a ball of cotton before he starts dabbing around the cuts and scrapes. He is not, by any means, gentle, but he does work quickly and efficiently. Sebastian's face contorts, and he fights back a hiss at the sting; sharp and sudden. His hand is already aching, joints feeling swollen. He watches Jim work, feeling distant, because their whole relationship has changed now. He killed someone for Jim, without even thinking. Killed for this man, who instead of doing any number of the expected responses, is helping him clean up; both himself and the body. Who isn't going to hand him in. Unless...

"I'm not saying I have much, because we both know I don't... but this isn't... I mean." Sebastian pauses to gather his thoughts. "Should I be worried that you'll turn this into something to blackmail me with?"

Jim's eyes flick up to Sebastian and he frowns; harsh, disapproving. He presses into the next cut with more firmness than any of the others.

"Don't be foolish. I'm a witness. I didn't intervene. I didn't report you. I'm an accessory to the crime." Jim purses his lips as he turns Sebastian's hand, checking for anywhere he missed. Although, it will always be good insurance to have in case Sebastian tries anything foolish.

"I'm supposed to believe that you can get rid of a body, but you can't manipulate the facts to exclude yourself from what happened?"

Jim looks up at Sebastian, and this time there's a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You killed someone for me." That comes out a little more sing song than he had hoped, and he bites his lower lip to stop another bout of semi-manic giggles.

Sebastian is looking at him as if he's just realised Jim is insane. There's a list of things he could say to that; it was an accident, I got carried away, he would have hurt you again if I didn't, it was in defence.

He doesn't say any of them.

“I would do it again if I had to.”

"I know." Jim starts wrapping Sebastian's hand, a little more careful now his anger flare has passed. His gaze flicks up, and this time he does smile. "You're my good boy."

Sebastian swallows. He's watching Jim with caution now, and the thing he finds the most odd is the fact that he doesn't feel any regret. It's been a long time since he killed someone, and it had never been like that; up close and personal. Usually he had miles and a scope between him and whoever the unlucky sod was. Nothing this raw. Not since his first kill. But it's good; blissful, even. He feels peaceful and comfortable in his own skin, the clarity remaining even after the adrenaline fades. An odd sense of ecstasy settled over him. He missed this. The action, and only now does he realise how shit and boring his life has been without it.

He forces his eyes down to his hand, but it's not long before they drift back up to Jim.

“Are you okay?”

"Nothing I can't handle. Let's get you all cleaned up first, hm? Jim will fix you right up." He gets out some tape to hold the bandages in place, and within a few minutes he has Sebastian's hand finished.

He hasn't thought to check his own injuries since he came in, so when he shrugs off his jacket and reaches for his t-shirt, he finds it stuck to him with dried blood. It's only a small circle, though, not difficult for him to grit his teeth and peel the material away. Once he's done he finds that, yep, one of his stitches has burst, just like he thought. Sebastian grimaces at the sight.

"I'm not going to be much help, I can barely move my hand." He stands, hovering in front of Jim. “Let me help you take this off though, yeah?”

Jim let's Sebastian pull his shirt off, then disregards him in favour of attempting to save himself an ugly, uneven scar. He cuts his medical tape into thin little sections. After dabbing around the split with disinfectant, he uses the tape as improvised butterfly stitches to hold the split together. That should do. The rest of his stitches are still in place.

Sebastian examines the shirt. He might be able to get the blood out while it's still fresh, like any woman on her period or seasoned killer can.

“If only we could tell ourselves a few hours ago we'd end up essentially naked in your bedroom,” he says over his shoulders, walking through to the bathroom.

Jim finishes up his self-care and tidies up. He folds the first aid kit up all neat, taking the cotton balls and leftover strips of tape down to the bin in the kitchen. Then he sticks on the kettle because he could do with a cup of tea. When he takes the kit back in to the bathroom, he finds Sebastian hand washing his t-shirt in the sink.

“Got the worst of the stain out. One more wash and it'll be perfect.”

“Thanks.”

"Don't suppose you've had any big ex-boyfriends who left clothes behind after you split up, eh?" He only asks because he's cold. The nudity doesn't really bother him.

"No." Jim sighs, leading them back down to the kitchen. "You'll have to wait and I'll get you something tomorrow. Before you argue, you have to stay. You stumbled in looking drunk. Bit of a give away if you walk out fine and dandy. Tea or coffee?"

“Coffee.” Sebastian purses his lips, looking somewhat like a sulking child. “So I'm just going to walk around your flat like this, now?”

"There's spare blankets in the hot press. Make yourself a robe or something." Jim motions down the hall with one hand as he reaches for the coffee jar with the other. "Stop whining at me about ridiculous nonsense."

Sebastian breathes out an exaggerated sigh as he walks off to where Jim motioned. He finds a blanket that looks warm and comfy, draping it around his shoulders, before going to flop down in what has become his spot on the couch. He flicks on the TV, holding his blanket cape firmer around him with his good hand. Had to do a murder on a cold day, didn't he?

Jim comes through a few minutes later. He hands Sebastian his coffee, so he won't have to fumble with his damaged hand, and Sebastian nods his thanks. He leaves his tea to cool, and vanishes down the hall. When he appears, he's in his PJ bottoms again. He's stuck some gauze over his stitches and put on a new shirt as well, and turned the heating up for Sebastian's sake. Finally, he joins Sebastian on the couch, who shifts himself closer instead of putting the usual distance between them.

"I'll get you a new jacket."

“You don't have to,” Sebastian says, glancing at him.

"You didn't have to kill him," is all Jim says in reply, navigating himself so his legs are curled up beneath him. He drapes the couch blanket across both their laps and ignores how domestic that seems. Whatever. They killed someone, they're not domestic. He sips at his tea and looks at the television instead of Sebastian. "It was your favourite. It's not the same, but it's the least I can do."

Good boys get rewarded when they behave.

Sebastian swallows, also focusing on the screen

"Thanks.” After a bout of silence, he checks the time. “Let me know if you want anything. You still have... an hour left.”

Jim laughs, more genuine now than before; the manic edge gone. This one is a little tired, but it's real. He gives Sebastian a little pat on whatever part of his arm isn't covered by blanket.

"I'll let you off early."

"Awh wow, you're the best boss ever." Sebastian chuckles.

"I know, right? My generosity knows no bounds."

"Where do I post my comment card? I've got nothing but first class reviews!"

"You can feel free to shower me in compliments, but flattery won't get you a promotion."

"Ignoring the post puns now? Harsh."

"You're off duty. Your puns don't apply."

"To be fair, they were punintentional, so..."

"I will pun-ish you." Jim gives Sebastian a little slap on the arm to emphasise his point.

“You love it. Clearly. Since you're sinking to my level now."

"This is what you've reduced me to. I'm better than this."

"Not anymore."

"Damn."

There's another bout of comfortable silence between them. Jim rests his head against Sebastian's shoulder, drowsy from all the tablets. Sebastian looks down at him, not even that surprised any more, and he's enjoying the warmth, so he won't complain.

“You should sleep if you can,” he says.

"Don't think I can." Not between the pain and how wired he is; drowsy or not. Sebastian nods.

“I know the feeling.” He takes a sip of his coffee, humming thoughtfully. “You know, I haven't actually felt this... content in I-don't-know-how-long.”

"Mmm." Jim holds Sebastian's arm to steady himself as he leans across to the table, abandoning his empty mug. He lets go when he shifts back again, but continues to use Sebastian as a pillow. Someone else might tell Sebastian they're glad he's happy, or be appalled by the reason, or any other number of human reactions, but all Jim does is settle against him again.

He smells nice. Mostly because he smells like Jim now, after using his shower, but there's still a hint of Sebastian beneath it, and some possessive part of Jim is purring proudly at the mixture, as if he's marked him. He lets out a soft little sigh against Sebastian's neck, and he'd been absently examining Jim's handiwork on his hand, but that sigh stirs him. He's not looking at Jim; all he is is a warm body and hot breath, and that's enough to perk Sebastian's interest.

"What time do you have to be at work?" Jim asks.

"I'm usually leaving the house at seven. Might have to ring in sick."

"You've been sick an awful lot lately. Won't they be getting suspicious?"

"Well, I should be hungover, shouldn't I?"

"I would have told you to drink plenty of water,” says Jim, despite the fact it's not relevant information. "But I suppose.”

"Might have just dragged me straight to bed if I was wasted and had been fighting." Sebastian shrugs. “Thing is, I can't really get home without clothes, and there's no where to get them that early in the morning. So I can't do anything else."

"I could go pick them up for you." Jim rests his chin on Sebastian's shoulder, so he can look up at him with those big, browns eyes. "Not that I'm opposed to you skiving work. My rebel."

Sebastian looks down at Jim, and he is suddenly so very close. He nods.

“That's an option. I don't care much either way.”

“We'll see in the morning.” Jim turns his head forward again, and Sebastian is relieved.

"Yeah okay."

"Mmm. Do you need any painkillers for your hand?" Jim only thinks to consider Sebastian's pain now, and he doesn't really want to get up, glad when Sebastian shakes his head.

“It's fine, I've had worse, and I don't fancy either of us moving, so."

"Good. I didn't really fancy moving." Jim laughs. Sebastian finishes his coffee and sets the mug aside, settling back into the couch, shifting his shoulder until Jim is resting comfortable against it.

“How's your throat?" he asks after a while.

"Feels like it's going to bruise. Good thing I can work from home. People might think I'm being abused."

"Can I take a look?"

"It'll probably start to colour during the night." Jim pushes himself up a bit and tilts his head back, chin up, exposing his throat. Sebastian squints in the low light. He touches his thumb to the soft flesh under Jim's chin.

“It's looking quite tender already.”

“Yeah.” Jim sighs. "If I'm going to be all bruised up I would have preferred attaining them through different methods."

“Like what?" Sebastian asks, snorting. Jim lowers his head and raises his eyebrow.

"How does one acquire neck bruising?"

Sebastian grimaces, moving his hand away as it clicks.

“You're into all that, are you?"

"Most people would have assumed I meant biting.” Jim smirks. “Funny how your mind made that jump."

"And yet you're not actually telling me I was wrong to assume."

"You weren't. Both would be correct."

"I'm not even surprised anymore." Sebastian scratches at his eye with his good hand, and he can remember how Jim looked after he watched him beat the shit out of the Italian. How those big dark eyes had stared at him, and the sound of his voice, all low and breathy.

 _No_ , Sebastian.

"Good. I like that attitude." Jim drops his head back on Sebastian's shoulder like he hasn't just admitted he gets off on people choking him. "We watch a lot of shit TV."

"Yeah, we do." The 'we's still unsettle him a bit; like they're a couple. "You got any better suggestions though?"

"You could pick a film." Jim hits up the pay to rent movie list and then hands the remote back to Sebastian, because he doesn't actually care enough to pick, but he can't watch another episode of The Cube; he just can't.

Sebastian struggles with the remote for a bit, because he's awful at technology, and he never uses his TV for this. His film choices aren't much better than his choice of television; doesn't watch war movies often, and he won't consider any after tonight. That limits him to sports dramas and awful comedies. Eventually he just sticks on Coach Carter and relaxes again.

Jim sets his arm on Sebastian's when he's not paying attention, tracing his fingers over the muscles of his biceps.

"You're pretty strong for an old man." There's a tone of teasing to his voice, but also a note of sincerity, because Jim does admire his strength.

“I'm not actually old. And I told you it's just a number."

"Ol-durrr man." He tries to wrap his hand around Sebastian's arm, but his fingers don't come close to meeting. Sebastian watches with a glimmer of a smile, tensing his arm muscles. Jim's hand loosens when Sebastian flexes. He presses his palm down, just so he can feel the solidness of muscle beneath it.

"I'm not gonna be like most men my age,” Sebastian says. “Because I've been in control of my body, and I've been disciplined since before I could make a fist."

"So I can see." Jim gives Sebastian's arm another little pat before leaving it be. "Not bad."

Sebastian nods, but his smile falters.

“What happens if someone finds out?”

"No one will find out."

"But if they did."

"I said they won't, so don't worry about it."

"I can get on board with you maybe knowing who's gonna fuck who on a cooking show. But how could you be certain about _this_? People don't just get away with murder. Especially not a postman and someone who reviews dildos for a living."

Jim giggles at that.

"I've only reviewed one dildo." He sits up, meeting Sebastian's gaze, growing serious. "Nothing is ever certain, sweetheart. If something happens, I'll deal with it. Don't you worry your pretty head."

Sebastian just stares at him, frowning deeply, for a long, long time.

“Who _are_ you?” he finally asks.

Jim doesn't break Sebastian gaze, but he smiles, slowly.

"I'm Jim, silly."

"But what is all of this? You're clearly more than what you seem."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. Don't you think I know too much to keep treating me like some gullible bint? Just tell me why you can get away with murder. What's really going on here."

"I didn't get away with murder, darling. I didn't lay a single finger on that man. If I recall correctly, I merely observed as you beat him to a bloody pulp."

"Right, then. The fact that you can cover up a murder."

"I have connections."

"Why do you have connections?"

"Why must you ask so many questions? I run a few side-lines. I'm not yet sure if you can be trusted with the details."

"I killed someone for you."

"Yes. You acted on emotional impulse. That hardly renders you reliable."

"The impulse to protect you. I'm not saying it's not fucked up, but my gut reaction is to keep you safe and apparently break any finger that touches you." Sebastian sighs, annoyed at himself, because that's weird. Hearing it out loud only drives it home.

"At the moment." Jim strokes Sebastian's arm in a soothing manner. Good boy. "I'm not saying I won't tell you. Just... not yet."

He's not impressive enough yet, like gosh, let him expand his reputation first.

Sebastian's eye twitches, and he'd never admit it, but the stroking motion does calm him slightly. He is quiet while he considers, before saying; “I could help.”

"I know. And you will, if you continue to behave accordingly." Jim yawns, nestling down without releasing Sebastian's arm. "Just trust me for now."

"I have to trust you, but you can't trust me," Sebastian mutters under his breath, though he's aware Jim can hear. But he's already given in. They both know he's done; he's stuck, and he's loyal, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't stop that now.

"Hush hush. It's nothing personal. It's precaution."

Sebastian nods. He gets it, but he's still curious. Must be attracted to danger, why else would he be so drawn in to Jim's life? Never would have guessed when they met that they would end up here; him naked with a blanket slowly working its way off him the more Jim tries to curl into his side. He sighs, adjusting the blanket over both of them, before settling his attention on his film. He's seen it before, so it doesn't take long for him to slip in to it, chuckling occasionally.

Jim relaxes after the little hitch in their conversation. His hand loosens on Sebastian's arm and his eyes fall half shut. His lips are parted ever so slightly, each breath puffing against Sebastian's shoulder. He's not sleeping, but he is drifting at the edge of consciousness. Sebastian doesn't notice, so used to Jim falling quiet by now, but when he looks towards him at a particularly funny joke, he assumes he's asleep, and is quieter after.

They both jerk to alertness when Jim's phone rings, which sends a stab of pain through Jim's side.

“Mmmhand,” he says to Sebastian, which translates to; please pass me my phone, Sebastian. Sebastian does so without question.

"Mm?" Jim sits up a little straighter. "Speaking. Yes. You're certain? And there were no complications? You better be sure, or I will track you down and tear you into pieces so small the fish won't even bother to eat you. No, no, my sweet, that's a promise. Oh yes. I'll see to it. Bye bye now."

“Was that the guy?” Sebastian asks once Jim has ended the call.

"Mhm. It's sorted. Told you it would be fine."

"Would you believe me if I said I never doubted you?"

Jim smiles, all sleepy, and stretches his arms up above his head. Sebastian cringes on his behalf.

“Careful.”

"'M fine." Little tug at his side, but nothing too bad.

"Just take it easy. No more getting dragged into alleys, eh?"

"I'll try my best."

"Good boy."

Jim gives Sebastian a half-hearted smack on the chest. He chuckles, so smug any time he gets the chance to say that.

"Prick."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you not like being _my_ good boy?"

Jim knows if he gets angry it'll only spur Sebastian on, so he change tactics, leaning in closer and dropping his voice.

"Am I your good boy?" He walks his fingers up Sebastian's chest. Sebastian grimaces, slapping that hand away, and he winces, because he automatically used his sore hand.

"Fuck off."

"Don't play games you can't win, 'Bastian. There's a good boy."

"Just because I don't want to play gay chicken with you? Yeah."

"It's not worth playing when we already know who'd win."

"Yeah, because I'm not a fag."

"Mhmm."

"Don't mhmm me. I'm not gay. It'd only be a game if we were both straight."

"I was just agreeing with you. No need to get all defensive about it."

"I'm not being defensive. Just saying you'd only win because you'd love to fuck me but, I'm not even in to guys.”

"For someone who's so very straight, you're quite absorbed with the idea of me... desiring you."

“Desiring me.” Sebastian snorts. “That is pretty much the gayest way you could have put that, too."

"Just because my vocabulary is not limited to that of a fourteen year old."

"You trying to say mine is?"

"Take from it what you will."

"You think I could be educated like I was and still have the vocabulary of a teenager? Just because I don't talk like a thesaurus doesn't mean I can't."

Jim grins, because winding Sebastian up is quick becoming his favourite past time.

"If you insist," he says.

"Do you know where I went to school?"

"Oxford. Same as me.”

“You actually did research me, didn't you?" Sebastian frowns. Jim smirks.

"Oxford would have been an educated guess regardless."

"You know what I studied, then?"

"Of course. Literature."

“Is there anything you don't know about me?"

"Perhaps. Nothing I currently care about."

"That's creepy as fuck, Jimbo."

"You call me Jim, or you keep that pretty mouth shut."

"Aww you think my mouth is pretty, Jimbo? That's so sweet."

"I will bite my way into that pretty mouth of yours and tear your tongue out with my teeth."

“No you won't."

"Are you so sure about that?"

"You're not gonna bite my tongue out."

"Maybe I'll bite your cock off instead." Jim snaps his teeth playfully.

"You think I'd let you?"

"You think I couldn't find a way?"

"I'm not above sucker-punching you in your stab wound, Jim."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't let you bite any part of me off."

"Mhmmm."

"You think anyone would stand by and let that happen?"

"Oh no." Fake, overly bright voice.

"I could snap you like a twig and you know it."

“You couldn't bear to see me hurt. You'd be guilt-wrecked."

“You think so, eh?" Sebastian snorts.

"I know so."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Okay ." Jim shifts up, so he's kneeling beside Sebastian. "Hit me, then."

Sebastian shifts his body so he's facing Jim, staring at him.

"I'm not just going to hit you for no reason."

"Hit me because I'm a dick then."

"That's not a good enough reason."

With no warning, Jim bounces forward, pressing his mouth firmly against Sebastian's. He doesn't attempt to kiss him any deeper, but he's still right in there. There is a moment of shock, where Sebastian's eyes widen, but then it clicks what is happening and he brings his fist down. It's not properly hard, not how he'd punch someone if he meant it, but it's enough to knock Jim away, momentarily daze him. Sebastian uses that moment to spring to his feet.

"What the fuck?!"

"I was giving you a reason to hit me. That was pathetic, by the way. I was expecting blood."

Sebastian stares at him incredulously, holding up his injured hand.

“Bit fucked up from the last guy I hit. Better luck next time."

"You can hit me when your hand is better, then," Jim says, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian, who is still staring at him, appalled. "Darling, don't insult me. If I were really trying to kiss you it would be with a little more tact than that."

"It wouldn't be anything at all, because you're going to keep that shit to yourself." Sebastian is silently praying that he doesn't get an inappropriate boner while he's standing there in just his boxer shorts, pointing an accusatory finger at Jim. That's the last thing he needs to deal with right now.

Jim doesn't apologise. He just pats the couch.

"Sit down, moron. I only did it 'cause I knew it's what you'd react to."

Sebastian's tongue darts out to wet his lips, but they're so dry it sticks and drags instead. He closes his mouth, jaw set, but slowly relaxes his stance. It's a few seconds before he sits down, and when he does, it's further from Jim than usual.

“You're a fucking asshole,” he says.

"To be fair, I have told you that several times. It's not like you didn't get a disclaimer." Jim flashes Sebastian a charming smile.

"I forget, because you sometimes act dead on. It's hard to keep up."

"Silly you."

"Just... fuck off for a bit, yeah?"

Jim sighs, but he stays on his side of the couch, cocooning himself in his blanket as he falls quiet. He's a touch disappointed. He wanted Sebastian to really hit him, broken hand be damned. He wanted to feel it, experience the full force of his strength. He just lies, quietly sulking, occasionally dozing, but he wakes any time Sebastian shifts or the TV is particularly loud.

Sebastian clutches his injured hand, staring ahead at the TV without seeing it. He's lost inside his head, and he's livid. He find himself simultaneously caring about Jim, and loathing him. Right now, he's really, really glad he hit him; can't see himself feeling bad about that any time soon, but he can't understand all these contrasting thoughts and feelings. Ugh. Fuck. He needs a break from Jim, but he can't leave, so he just sits; quiet and unmoving, right at the edge of the couch, until he falls asleep sitting up.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets Sebastian a present, and one of the other postmen finds out about their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter, but that's because the next one will be long, and smutty.  
> Also, Tony pops up again in this chapter. He's become a recurring character in all of our AUs, a sort of inside joke, as a source of jealousy for Sebastian, but postman au was his debut! We never gave him a physical description, and when I brought this up with Charlie, it was surprising how vastly our ideas of Tony varied. So I've decided to leave him to reader interpretation. Imagine Tony how you wish.

Jim's still buzzed from the murder. He hasn't done anything physical; has had no release for that energy. There's no way he can sleep tonight. He lies until half four, listening to the sound of Sebastian's breathing, before he gets up and fetches his laptop to work on his papers for a while, tidying the last details. Sebastian mumbles in his sleep, occasionally jerking awake only to drift off again a minute later. Jim ignores him, invested in his work. It's only around at six that he nudges Sebastian with his foot.

Sebastian jumps awake, turning his head slowly to stare at Jim, bleary eyed.

"Are you going to work or phoning in sick, because if you're going in I'll have to go get you clothes soon."

It takes Sebastian a moment to process that. Every part of his body is stiff from sleeping upright, and his hand hurts like hell now, worse than before. Analysis complete, he shakes his head.

“I'll call in sick.”

"Right." Jim continues working for another ten minutes before getting up. He silently deposits painkillers and water by Sebastian's arm before sticking the kettle on, leaning on the kitchen counter as he waits.

Silently thankful for the painkillers, Sebastian takes the recommended dosage before stretching out his body. The marking on Jim's neck has blossomed overnight, and it does not go unnoticed by Sebastian. There's also a mark beginning to develop on his cheek, and with morning clarity, Sebastian does actually feel bad for hitting him, even if he did deserve it. Downing his glass of water, Sebastian uses the space between living room and kitchen to do his morning exercise routine. Creature of habit, and he won't get his morning walk today, doesn't have any equipment here, so it's all cardio; stretches, sit-ups, push-ups.

Jim watches subtly from the kitchen, admiring the view for a few minutes. Once the kettle boils, he leaves Sebastian's coffee sitting on the counter, and drinks his tea in the living room. When he's done, he heads off to brave another shower. He dries himself, puts more cream around his stitches, and forces himself in to clothes. It's fine. He's had worse. Nothing he can't handle. Just keeps repeating that to himself.

Drinking his coffee, Sebastian waits for Jim to finish in the shower before he pops down, sweaty from his work-out. He's quicker than Jim, in and out in five minutes, and once he's dried off he just potters around the flat in his old boxers, feeling strangely at home. Not at all self-conscious.

He finds Jim in the living room, drinking another cup of tea and clicking away rapidly on his laptop. He barely notices Sebastian as he sits on the other side of the couch, writing up a review he forgot about in all the fuss. It doesn't take more than fifteen minutes, and then he clicks his laptop shut, finally focusing on Sebastian.

"I could go get you clothes," he says.

“Yeah, uh, that would be great.”

"Anything in particular?"

“According to you my standards are hardly high in that area, so...” Sebastian shrugs. “I guess not."

“Gimme your keys, then.”

Frowning for a moment, Sebastian tries to remember where he left them. Ah, yes, kitchen counter with his phone after he stripped. He rises to retrieve them, tossing them in Jim's direction. It causes Jim quite a bit of pain to grab for those, but he doesn't let it show because damn sure he's not going to drop them.

“T'anks.” He puts his coat on by the door. “I'll not be long.”

Sebastian's about to ask if he remembers the way, but he doesn't get it out before the door shuts, and he's glad, because a moment later it seems dumb. He sticks on the kettle to make more coffee and goes foraging for leftovers in Jim's kitchen, because there's not much else he can do.

*

Jim gets a cab because he's not really up for walking. He doesn't go straight to Sebastian's. He goes shopping first, and ends up getting distracted for half an hour. He buys himself some new jeans, and a jacket, but he gets Sebastian a nice new jacket as well, just like he said. A really good one, because he deserves a reward for his behaviour.

Jim buys himself a Starbucks as his own reward for a hard half hour shopping, and then gets another cab to Sebastian's flat. He picks out what he thinks will look best with the new jacket from Sebastian's wardrobe (though there isn't much choice), before heading back.

*

Meanwhile, Sebastian is bored, bored, _bored_. He eats in front of the TV, makes tea, and then ends up flicking through Jim's books. When there's finally a knock on the door, he assumes it's Jim without thinking, because who else would it be?

When he opens the door, he finds not Jim, but one of the other postmen. Ah, right, yeah. Postmen. Those exist. Never really consider that when you're the one delivering post.

“Uhh...” Sebastian points at the man, clicking his fingers as he tries to recall his name. “Tony, right?”

Tony is fiddling with his bag, closing down the top of it. He looks up at his name before he even acknowledges the voice, and almost drops the parcel. He's been having a bad enough day as it is. It was meant to be his day off, but he was called in to cover Moran's shift, and so many people on this route have been asking how he is, as if Tony is his keeper or something. It's starting to do his head in. Running in to Moran was really the last thing he expected to happen. It takes him a few seconds to respond.

“Yeah.”

Tony's brain fires through a series of thoughts. Part of him is annoyed, because there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with Moran. Mostly he's confused that he's here. Does he live here? Is that why he knows so many people on the route? But, why are all the letters for Moriarty? He has a vague memory of Moriarty... Short, dark, snappy that one time, when he said he wasn't Sebastian. Is this why? Are they... Friends? Fucking? Huh.

“Is Mr Moriarty in?” Tony finally says. Well, he supposes Moriarty did look kind of gay, but he would never have guessed Moran... He shifts the parcel under his arm awkwardly. He should be in bed right now. He shouldn't be working today.

Sebastian watches the flickering of expressions across Tony's face, and it takes him a moment to remember himself. When he does, he sniffs loudly. Yes. That'll fool him.

“He's just went out for a bit. I can sign for him.”

Strange that Moran's staying here while he's sick, Tony thinks. Is the little one looking after him or something? That's a bit sweet, actually.

Right. Signing. He holds the machine forward for Sebastian, who sniffs again, and forces a cough. He signs with a tight scribble.

“Thanks for, uh,” Sebastian clears his throat, “covering for me again.”

“That's alright.” Tony has never particularly liked Moran, but he's warmed by the image of his relationship that he has summoned in his head, and it softens his tone. “You boys have a good day.”

He gives Sebastian a little nod, and then he's off, leaving Sebastian frowning in the doorway. You boy _s_. What what was _that_ supposed to mean?

Tony meets Jim on his way out of the building, and gives him a little smile that Jim mostly ignores. Good thing he's got a scarf on, or poor Tony's mental image of their relationship would be shattered. Jim slips past him to his door, padding in with his shopping bag and a bag of Sebastian's clothes, still holding his Starbucks cup.

“Honey, I'm hooooome~”

Sebastian looks up, smirking. That's more like the Jim he's used to seeing. He sets his book down and gets to his feet, coming to meet Jim by the door.

“You got a package, while you were out.”

"I know. I saw Tony. He looked far too happy to see me. What did you say to him?" Jim shifts his bags so he can hand Sebastian the one with his clothes, his jacket subtly hidden in at the bottom there. No biggie.

“Thanks.” Sebastian takes the bag from Jim, moving back to the living room. “I didn't say anything to him, but he told me 'you boys have a good day'. What do you think he meant by that?”

Sebastian sits the bag on the couch, rifling through it. Glad to have the option of clothes again.

“That explains the smile.” Jim smiles, shaking his head as he takes his new purchases down to his room.

Sebastian fishes out new underwear, following Jim as he heads to the bathroom to change.

“What?” he asks, hovering at the door of Jim's bedroom for an answer. Jim pretends he doesn't hear, and when Sebastian receives no reply, he skulks off to the bathroom to slip in to his fresh underwear.

Jim neatly stores his purchases away, removes his coat and scarf, and returns to the living room as Sebastian steps out of the bathroom. He settles himself on the couch, watching Sebastian get dressed.

“He thinks we're together, doesn't he?” Sebastian huffs out a breath of annoyance.

"Don't ask me things you already know the answer to."

“Why would that make him...” Sebastian sighs. “Less of a prick towards me?"

"Perhaps he feels like he's seen your human side." Jim shrugs.

"My human side is my imaginary... 'relationship'... with you?"

"Well, they don't like you because of your lack of sympathy for Arthur. Cold, emotionless, uncaring Sebastian. Tsk tsk. But now he thinks there's a softer side to you. You are capable of feeling. It's a miracle!"

"I'd rather be cold, emotionless, uncaring Sebastian."

"Don't take that tone with me. It's not my fault you answered the door in your pants."

"I didn't have many options, did I?"

"You could have not answered the door at all." Duh.

"I wasn't thinking and just assumed it was you."

"Surprise surprise."

Sebastian sighs, pulling on his shirt. He reaches for the jacket, pulling it out with a frown.

“This isn't mine.”

"It is now," Jim says, not looking up from his phone. Casual casual.

Sebastian looks between Jim and the jacket, genuinely surprised and grateful. Even if Jim did say he'd get him a new jacket, Sebastian hadn't actually expected him to follow through. It's a really nice jacket, too. Good quality. It can't have been cheap.

“Thanks,” he says, and it's the most genuine he's sounded. He bites his lip, looking at the jacket once more before he pulls it on. He never really buys himself new clothes until his old are falling apart, so this is rare, this is nice.

Jim only glances up when Sebastian's got the jacket on, mostly so he can see if his own judgement was correct. It was, of course. The jacket fits Sebastian perfectly and it looks great. Jim's lips quirk into a little smile and he gives an approving nod before lowering his gaze again. Sebastian grins at him, before disappearing to the bathroom so he can check himself out in the mirror. New favourite jacket. Shabang.

“Maybe I _should_ let you dress me,” he says on his return.

"Sorry. What's that I hear? Is that Sebastian Moran acknowledging I am correct? And he was wrong? That my style and taste are impeccable?"

Jim tips his head back against the couch so he can grin at Sebastian.

"Okay, you were right. You _might_ know how to dress me. I just assumed you could only dress people like you dress yourself."

"Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't work this like I do."

"Exactly why I didn't want to let you."

"So little faith in me."

"I have more now."

"Good."

Sebastian smiles, before jerking his head towards the door.

“So eh, maybe I should go? Otherwise I might seem like I'm moving in."

"Then people would _really_ get the wrong impression."

“Exactly.”

"Can you burn those for me?" Jim indicates Sebastian's forgotten bag of clothes.

“Yeah, I'll eh, I'll deal with it."

"Good boy."

“So, uh.” Sebastian scratches the back of his head. “Thanks for, everything. I'll see you around, I guess.”

He gathers up the bag of clothes and steps towards the door.

"Seeya." Jim waves over the back of the couch. He doesn't watch Sebastian leave. It is weird to know the flat is empty now, though, in a strange way.

*

Sebastian stops off at the dump on the way home, throwing the bag of bloody clothes in the incinerator. He stays long enough to make sure they're completely burned, before heading back to his flat.

Once he's there, he has nothing to do. He kind of misses the little prick, now that it's just him alone with his thoughts. Which is a problem. He's over-thinking. So he tries going for a walk, which doesn't help. Then exercising, then cleaning his guns; but all his hobbies leave him space for thinking.

*

In the evening, Jim takes the elevator down to the lobby, and makes his way to the office. In, out; five minutes and the security tapes are secured.

It's just so easy.

*

It's a few days before Sebastian sees Jim again. When he answers the door, he's moving a bit more freely, his stitches finally starting to heal. His neck has gone a mottled, ugly colour, which Sebastian's gaze is instantly drawn towards.

"Hi. You must be the new postman."

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, but he plays along anyway.

"Uhh, that's me, sir. I've got a package for you."

"Doesn't look very impressive. I was hoping for something a little bigger."

"I assure you sir, its a first class, large package. Special delivery."

"Still looks pretty small to me. The last one always brought a big package. Even helped me unwrap it."

"I promise, sir, I always endeavour to go the extra mile, and I do make deliveries to the back door, if required."

"You've used that one before. Tsk, tsk. You're slipping." Jim grins.

“There's a finite number of post puns,” Sebastian says, shrugging.

"How about we just have no post puns." Jim takes the pen before Sebastian even offers it, scribbling down his signature.

"Wow, eager to get rid of me?" Sebastian passes across the parcel.

"If you keep making puns, then yes."

"I'll stop, but you started it."

"You brought puns into it. You tainted our moment."

"I genuinely meant I had a package for you."

"I made it a metaphor. You made it a pun."

"Right, okay."

Jim shifts his parcel and smiles sweetly.

"Will that be all?"

“Yeah, I guess so." Sebastian nods, eyebrows raised. "Have a good day, sirrr."

"Don't pester anyone else with your lame puns."

"Yeah, yeah."

Doris appreciates his puns.

*

"Coming coming coming." Jim pads from his bedroom down the hall, in a pair of jeans, but shirtless and bare footed. His stitches have mostly dissolved now, and his neck has cleared up.

“That _must_ be a sex noise.” Sebastian smirks when he opens the door. “Did I catch you changing?”

"In the process, yeah." Jim opens the door further, leaning against it, and Sebastian's eyes automatically go to the stab wound.

“Lookit you, almost tip top.” He taps at his signature pad.

“Getting there.” Jim gives his wound a little poke, before accepting the pen and signing.

“Bruising's pretty much cleared up, too." Sebastian hands his parcel across.

"I'm pretty as ever again."

“Looks like it.”

"Shame we can't do anything about you."

“Yeah, well,” Sebastian smirks. “We can't all be lucky enough to look good in nothing but jeans."

"Do I look good?"

Jim looks at Sebastian with wide-eyed innocence. He looks down at himself curiously, then up at Sebastian again through his lashes. Sebastian sighs, long suffering, his expression deadpan. Jim pokes at his hipbone with a little frown. He traces his fingers along a few scars on his tummy. Pretending to be self conscious until Sebastian sighs again, pained.

“You look good.”

"You're just saying that." Jim holds his parcel over his ribs, fighting back a smile.

“And you're just playing me. Come on, your ego's so big I'm surprised you make to the door most mornings.”

“Yeah,” Jim laughs. "I'll see you later."

Sebastian's expression softens, and he nods.

“Yeah. Glad you're doing better.”

He gives Jim one last look over, before continuing on his way.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet in a club, and things get dirty. If I had to sum this chapter up in a phrase; sex mind games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're excited about this chapter. It's one of our favourite moments of the RP.  
> You should read the whole club scene with Christina Aguilera's 'Dirty' blasting in the background, because that's how I imagine it  
> .  
> Trigger warnings;  
> explicit sex  
> both homo and hetero  
> public sex (as it is club sex)  
> drunk sex  
> basically it's dirty drunk sex in a club  
> breathplay (choking)  
> also Sebastian's a huge misogynist but that's like an on running character flaw along with the homophobia

Sebastian's trying a new club tonight. He has to change every so often, when he's fucked too many regulars and he starts to become _that_ guy. He's wearing his new jacket, over a nice shirt and jeans. Well, as nice as it gets for him. He's finally got his hair cut, and put a bit of gel in it. Not that he ever has to try too hard; it's all confidence, he swears. He's been chatting to a few girls, striking out once or twice, but if you wanna fuck an omelette...

He's a few drinks down the line, so he's well limbered up, but he's got a girl on the hook now. Pulling her will be easy. He's just got to buy her a drink to seal the deal, but it has to be done swiftly. He pushes his way up to the bar, elbowing through and leaning in to order another trashy J&C and a cosmopolitan for the girl.

Jim actually catches the sound of Sebastian's voice before he sees him, and his head turns almost instinctively towards the sound. He gets a little thrill of seeing Sebastian out, just because of the new situation. Exciting, and he definitely approves of the jacket. It almost feels like having his mark on him, and Sebastian doesn't even realise. He'd been idly sucking at a cocktail as he looked the place over, but at the sight, he wriggles through the crowd, to stand by Sebastian's elbow.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Sebastian glances towards Jim, just about catching the voice. He looks surprised, and gives him a double take. Jim looks... good. Those jeans almost look painted on, and the dip of his v-neck is lower than is necessary. It's also a size too small, so it keeps threatening to climb up over his tummy. He's got a pair of sexy little ankle boots on, that look like they could be woman's shoes. The sudden assault of his presence catches Sebastian off guard, but he automatically smiles.

“Stalking me now, are you? That's a little sad.”

"You wish, old man. I'd be bored to death if I had to follow you around." Jim catches his straw between his teeth and grins around it. "Is this one of your outings from the home?"

"Oh yeah. I'm planning to escape tonight, actually."

"You sure your hip is up for that kind of strain? You haven't had the new one for long."

“If I wasn't up to it, could I do _this_?” Sebastian moves his head side to side, getting used to the rhythm, before he does a semi-embarrassing, semi-impressive spin. This leads in to a little dance; exaggerated boogie, attempting to do a moonwalk through the crowd. The most impressive thing is that he doesn't spill his drink.

This provokes an outburst of giggles, and it's a moment before Jim recovers himself.

"I can't believe you just did that while talking to me. People are going to think I'm associated with you." Shaking his head and turning ever so slightly away, but not enough that he won't be heard. "I don't know you."

Sebastian steps closer, knocking his shoulder against Jim's, smirking.

“You do, though,” he says. “No going back now.”

"Once I've perfected time travel I will change that."

“Yeah well, if you had actually perfected time travel, wouldn't this conversation not be happening?"

"This could turn into a very long discussion that I am far too sober for."

"Not had anyone to buy you drinks?"

"Not yet." Which, considering the fact he's only been here ten minutes, doesn't mean much.

“You'd wanna catch up.” Sebastian raises the cosmopolitan. “I'm about to seal the de- awk, fuck.”

He looks across the room and sees his girl being snogged against the wall by someone else. Ugh. Sebastian looks back at Jim, like he blames him, which he does; but he slides the drink across to him.

"You might as well have that."

Jim grins. He abandons his empty glass, shuffling closer to Sebastian.

"Do you have a preference? Don't say girls."

Sebastian laughs, because that's what he was about to say. Then he shrugs.

“Ehh, redheads.”

Jim pushes up on his tiptoes, supporting himself with his back against the bar. He takes a nice, long sip of his drink, eyes skimming the room.

"She has crabs, so I'd avoid her,” he says.

“I'll remember that.”

"And that one," he points at a girl with her back turned, "is on her period. You're getting nowhere, there."

“Actually, some girls really go for it on their periods. Apparently fucking helps. Though you usually need new bedsheets after, so best to go to theirs."

"I really, really did not need to hear that, but regardless, she will not let you touch her. Trust me." Jim pauses to suck at his straw, continuing to scan the room for potentials.

"I thought you'd never do this with me?"

"I said I'm not a tool for you to use. I won't just do what you tell me." Side glance at Sebastian. "But you didn't even ask."

"Awh, you spoil me," Sebastian teases, but his smirk softens.

"That whole group in the corner aren't single. Or likely to cheat."

"Is anyone here actually doable?"

Jim gets momentarily distracted when he makes accidental eye contact with a hottie. He's dark skinned and quite pretty for a guy, with a nice dusting of stubble along his jaw, but young; fresh on to the scene. Yes, he would do quite nicely. Jim throws a little smile in his direction, then remembers what he's doing.

“What about her?”

“You wanna go play with him, you don't have to stay here,” Sebastian says, because he doesn't miss that little exchange.

“I don't _go_ to anyone. He'll come to me. Now, answer.”

“Yeah, she'll do.” Sebastian shrugs, looking back to Jim. “How do you know he'll come to you?”

"They always come to me." Jim gives the girl another look over. "She's fresh out of a relationship. Trying to get over it. Emotionally vulnerable and looking for attention to rebuild her broken confidence. Compliment her a lot first and she'll be putty in your hands."

“Should I even ask how you know that?” Sebastian frowns.

"Just look how she's holding herself. All curled in small. She's put extra attention into her appearance and yet she's still lacking confidence. Her eyes keep flicking around though; waiting for someone to notice her."

Sebastian watches the girl as Jim speaks, and he can see it, once his attention is drawn to it; all the little signs.

“You are the king,” he says, grinning at Jim. Then he looks over at the other guy. “Think your boyfriend might be getting jealous of me.”

"Give him five minutes tops once you walk away. He'll make sure you're not coming back, then it's bees on honey."

“You've just got everything figured out, don't you?” Sebastian shakes his head, then leans over the bar to order another drink for the girl. Once he gets the glass, he throws Jim a smile, “have a good night, Jim.”

Jim smiles, eyes dark in the dim lighting of the club.

"Tell her she has great eyes and you like her dress. It's new." He leans back against the bar, "have fun."

Sebastian starts to reply to Jim as he backs away, but his words are lost in the music, so he just leaves it and approaches the girl. With Jim's advice, it's only a matter of minutes before he has her against the wall.

Jim's turns back to the bar, silently counting in his head. He's correct in his assumptions, and a few moments later there is mouth against his ear asking if he can buy him a drink. He agrees, and after a few drinks, he lets the guy (who's name he missed in the exchange, and he doesn't care enough to ask again) lead him to the dance floor. They do some dancing that is little more than grinding for a few songs, because Jim likes to make people work for him, before he allows _whatshisname_ to make a move.

Sebastian's just moved back from kissing his girl, is absently licking saliva from his lips, when he catches Jim from the corner of his eye. Jim has his head tipped back, his eyes closed as his pull mouths at his jaw. Sebastian smirks, but finds himself moving to start kissing down the girl's throat, his eyes still on Jim. Which is not gay. Why would it be? He's touching a woman.

He's finding a strange enjoyment in watching Jim, just slightly too drunk to really consider what that means. Jim is arching his neck against the guy's mouth, wriggling beneath his touch, gasping and moaning. Those expressions and movements have Sebastian captivated, and he grinds against his girl, trying to make her moan like that.

Jim's eyelashes flutter, and there's a moment where he catches Sebastian's eye across the room. This is a bit surprising, as he thought Sebastian would have left by now. Sebastian swallows when Jim's eyes lock on his, but there's something about this place' the flashing lights, the heat of the crowd, the alcohol, the loud music, the girl he's pressed against and hell bent on getting so wet there'll be a stream sourcing between her legs; something that makes him not at all self-conscious as he watches Jim with leering eyes.

Then whatshisname bites down, and Jim's eyes close again, but now he's aware of his audience. His hand slips from the guy's hair, and he drags his nails down his back. He's a decent choice; a nice balance of rough. He's got a hand curled through Jim's hair, dragging him in for another kiss while Jim pulls him closer by the ass. Usually he'd be moving towards the door now, but he's playing this up for Sebastian, even considering fucking his guy in the bathroom, which is gross, because club bathrooms are disgusting, but Sebastian will _know_ and that's exciting.

Sebastian presses his hard cock against his girl, until he can hear the little stuttered gasp that he loves. He runs his hands down her back, then up again, but his attention is mostly focused on Jim. He's watching him closely, moving back to the girl's neck so he can see better. The guy has Jim pressed against one of the pillars now, all pinned in place. Sebastian can see Jim's hand slip between them, and his arm is moving, rubbing the guy's dick, pressing his palm down to let him grind against it. Sebastian feels an odd mixture of jealousy and arousal. He reaches down between him and his girl, not because of Jim, no, just checking to see if she's as ready as he is, because right now he just wants to fuck, badly. Not questioning it.

He moves his head up, kissing her properly, thoroughly, until she's breathless. Then he diverts his lips to her ear, asking if she wants to go somewhere now and then head back to hers after. He must manage to phrase it sweetly enough, because she nods her head in agreement, and then he's leading her towards the men's. Never a queue, and there's always a free stall, unlike the ladies. Ugh.

Jim catches his attention again on the way past, and he watches unashamedly until he's out of view. He backs his girl in to a stall, kicking the door shut behind him and slipping the lock in to place without looking.

Jim's alcohol hazed brain definitely takes the sight of Sebastian vanishing into the bathroom as a challenge. He doesn't have to make much more of a suggestion than nodding his head in the direction of the bathroom, because whatshisname is obviously game, considering he's been dry humping Jim against the pillar for the past five minutes. Sober Jim will be disgusted, because club toilets are the worst, but drunk Jim is just murmuring a stream of filth as he's backed in to the stall beside Sebastian's. His accent is thicker with arousal, and there's an exhibitionist thrill in his stomach that is heightened by _Sebastian_ , something more carnal than mind games, or his urges to twist and manipulate.

Sebastian recognises Jim's voice as soon as he enters the bathroom. He could place that Dublin brogue anywhere. The sound of him, what he's saying, it all eggs Sebastian on to up his game. Never mind the fact that Jim occasionally slips in to other languages, seemingly without really noticing, and that is hotter than it should be. He'd only been sloppily making out with his girl while undressing her before Jim came in. Just getting her out of her dress; not necessary, but what can he say, he likes breasts. Jim's entrance, however, makes him want to show off a bit. Makes him want to make this girl lose control, show Jim what he's missing out- wait, no. Show Jim how good he is with women. Right. He's usually mostly silent in the bedroom, so he'll have to use the girl to compete with loud, loud, _loud_ Jim.

He sets to ravishing her; working his way down her body, using every trick in the book. He catches her ear between his teeth and tugs, he mouths his way hotly down her throat, sucking bruises at the base. He thumbs at her nipples, before taking them in to his mouth one at a time, sucking and licking while his fingers work to strip off her underwear. It's not long until he has her panting, whining, squirming; desperately trying to find a ledge to keep hold of.

“What's your name what's your name what's your name?” she keeps repeating, in between moans, until he comes up for air to let her know. He doesn't usually give his real name, just to make himself that bit harder to find when he bails, but it's worth it, when she starts whining it.

He puts those long fingers to good use as a reward for making him sound so good, thumbing over her clit before he drags his fingers between her folds. She's soaking for him, and with little warning or celebration, he presses two fingers in to her, causing her to arch and gasp.

Jim's not particularly impressed by the display coming from the next stall. He's had his share of drunk girls in his time, and he knows they'll make sound even when you're barely touching them. Her little sounds are nice though; Jim likes audio, and he keeps talking as he works whatshisname's trousers down, only stops when he's on his knees (these jeans are going to need washed twice). Jim doesn't usually blow people, finds it unnecessary, but tonight is more about their little unspoken game than the sex, and it's obvious when he suddenly falls silent what's happening.

He teases the head of whatshisname's cock, lapping precum before swirling his tongue around it. The teasing doesn't last too long, not with the guy strung so tight already, and soon Jim is taking him in his mouth, sliding down around the length of his cock and hollowing his cheeks. The little hisses and “shits” coming from whatshisname, who is trying to be quiet but not quite managing it, make it clear how great Jim is at this, and he is. Amazing, because he knows how to read reactions, knows how to cater what he's doing to each person. He's going a bit more sloppy than he usually would, than he would even usually approve of, but it makes a nice, slick noise that's audible, that can be heard through the stall.

Sebastian's doing his girl a favour, really, when he pulls out to slip another finger in, because she's going to need a little work to fit him. She's dropped to making a steady little whimper in the back of her throat that breaks in time with his movements. He licks his lips, shifting himself lower. He doesn't go down on every girl, but he's had plenty of practice, and some more _dominant_ lovers who have taught him a few tricks. Then there was this one brothel near where there were stationed... but that's a story for another day.

He's trying his best not to get caught up in thoughts of what Jim's doing next door, because he knows exactly what's going on. So he distracts himself by spreading her lips and dragging his tongue from where his fingers are pressed inside her, in a hot line up to her clit. He circles around her clit a few times before slipping the tip of his tongue beneath the hood, working it in fast, firm flicks over the little bundle of nerves. He glances up at her, not the most flattering angle for the chick, but he's intent on making her cum. Which, judging by the little crescendo, should be right about... _now_.

The flaw in Sebastian's plan is that he is displaying his skills in pleasuring a lady. If he wants to make Jim jealous, he should really be displaying how well he can suck a dick, like Jim is currently in the process of. Or was. Whatshisname is tugging his hair now, pulling him up, because this encounter is all going to be over very soon if he doesn't get a break from that sweet suction on his cock. Jim allows the guy to kiss him thoroughly while he's manoeuvring his jeans down.

“C'mon. Want you in me, want you filling me, want to feel the stretch and burn of you,” he says, all low and breathy.

He's had the good sense to come prepared. He fishes a few packets of lube from his pocket, some free samples he got from work. Hitching one leg up around whatshisname's waist, Jim lets his head rest back against the stall wall that is dividing them from Sebastian.

“You can go rough. I'm not fragile, I can take it. Want you to fuck me so hard I feel you for days.”

Jesus Christ. Sebastian is ridiculously hard. His cock is throbbing between his legs while the girl tightens around his fingers in pulses, breath hitching as she falls apart. He pulls his fingers out when she's panting for breath, subtly cleaning them on her abandoned dress, and then he's digging out a condom. While she recovers, he opens it, standing to unzip, leaning over her. He's not usually one for dirty talk; likes hearing it, yeah, but prefers to keep quiet himself. Yet he finds himself talking to her, low and deep.

“You ready? I'm gonna fuck you so hard. I'm gonna make you come again and again. You gonna scream for me, baby?"

She makes a soft little noise, and she's still panting, hasn't had the chance to catch her breath yet. He teases her, pressing his length along her sensitive clit, dragging it down through her folds, brushing the tip over her entrance until she's gasping out a quiet “please”. Then he starts to press in, and the noise she makes in response is glorious.

Jim is suddenly very eager to have whatever he's called inside him, and he's sort of fuzzily half aware of what's happening, but just too far over the line past tipsy to consider how fucking weird this is. His words fade out into little whimpers and whines and moans when there are finally fingers pressing in to him. Jim loves being fingered; can be made to fall apart more with fingers than he ever could with a cock. It's great, because all of the focus is on him. The other person isn't getting much out of it beside his pleasure, and that is the kind of thing that turns Jim on more than anything. Just having people focus on him.

After a quick build up to three fingers (he'd loosened himself up with his toy earlier, because some guys can't be trusted with prep), he's begging and pleading all low and pretty for whathisname's cock. Jim practically throws the condom at him as he pants and writhes, looking like something from a porno. Then finally, _finally_ , the guy is pressing in to him, too excited to even consider teasing.

“Yessssss,” Jim hisses, clawing at his scalp.

Sebastian hoists his girl up, so her legs can wrap around his waist, her arms around his neck, and he's fucking her up against the divide between the two stalls. The thin dividing wall shakes, the stall threatening to come down around his thrusts. He is going rough and hard and deep, showing off his strength by keeping her up, even if she is light enough; letting out small, gruff noises at the force.

Jim's feeling the force, feeling the wall shake against his back. He can just about make out Sebastian's noises beneath his own, beneath the battering of the wall. He's talking again, but he's not even sure what's coming out now, or in what language. It's probably mostly encouragement, or little exclamations; the occasional inspired line. He guides whathisname's hand to his throat, encouraging him to squeeze.

“Just close your hand. Do it properly, do it hard, please-” His words cut off with a little stuttered gasp when the guy, a little uncertain, but trusting the hottie impaled and wriggling on his cock, squeezes around his throat. Jim impulsively tries to breathe, but can't. Then everything is sharper, every nerve fine tuned.

The _clap clap clap_ noise of fucking, of skin on skin, echoes around the tiled bathroom; two rhythms out of sync. Sebastian's keeping the pace consistently fast for as long as he can, before slowing. He can hear though, still, even over the effort of his thrusts. He hears Jim plead, followed by the little choke, and his hand slams aggressively against the divider, making the girl jump, but there's no where for her to go. He's grunting now, as his anger flares, fucking her even harder, because the thought of Jim being choked, consenting or not, stirs thoughts and feelings it shouldn't.

Jim's attention has actually slipped from Sebastian for the first time, but the bang that shakes against his back brings it snapping right back. The shock of it prompts whatshisname to release his throat, and Jim gasps in air, the relief nearly as intense as the physical sensations surging through his body. Sebastian hears that gasp of breath, and is at least somewhat pleased that his unintentional intervention had some effect.

The kid's not going to last much longer. Jim can feel him starting to tense up. He rolls his shoulder blades back against the divider to help him forward a bit, and then he's talking again; his voice a little rough, and a lot louder than it needs to be.

"Are you close, darlin'? You are. I can tell. That's alright. I want you to come inside of me. Want you to fill me up. You can do that, can't you?" It's just talk. The condom isn't going to let that happened, but it's all been building up to this last little dig. " _There's a good boy_."

Drunk, he doesn't say 'my'. If he had of been a little more sober he might have, little cunt that he is, but in his fuzzy, alcohol-addled head he can't bring himself to grant this guy the same status as Sebastian. He's a toy; but not an impressive one, not one Jim wants to keep.

Sebastian's just concentrating on the girl for once. He knows she's ready to come again; can read all the tell-tale signs in the movement of her body, the way her breathing is starting to speed. He thinks he can keep going, fuck her through it, but then Jim's voice travels through; rough and fucked out and so low. He tries to ignore it, but it's so hard when it feels so close, and if he closes his eyes he can just...

Then, there is is: g _ood boy._ He tries to keep it to himself, tries to stay silent, but the orgasm springs on him like a surprise. He presses his forehead against the divider with an almost pained noise, gruff and guttural as he fucks her in lazy, stuttered motions. She comes again soon after, but who cares? What he doesn't realise until he's coming down is the name that slipped his lips as he fell apart, the quiet “Jim.” He thinks it might have been quiet enough to have been misheard, until she turns to him, panting.

“My name's Karen.”

Sebastian nods absently, pulling out and letting her down, so he can lean his back against the wall as he tries to catch his breath.

She's not the only one that hears it. Jim hears. He turns his head so his ear is pressed to the wall, listening, and somewhere along the line his sex sounds turn into laughter. He is giggling breathlessly, little moans interrupting, but not stopping it. Whatshisname is alarmed at the change, but Jim's words have worked their magic on him, too. He's pressing Jim harder to the wall, gasping and hissing as he cums inside of him. Jim's still giggling, quieter now, sparser. Whatshisname is equal parts concerned, self-conscious, and a little guilty, because he has neglected Jim's cock this whole time.

“Was that alright?” he asks.

Jim nods as the guy pulls out and he's lowered to his feet, grinning widely. He's feeling his little victory better than any orgasm, but whatshisname is sliding to his knees anyway, too considerate to leave Jim high and dry, even if he is acting weirdly. Jim's laughter stops. He doesn't have to play nice at this stage, so he grabs a fistful of hair with a quiet growl, and proceeds to fuck the guys mouth. It doesn't take long for him to come apart, and he can almost hear his name on Sebastian's lips again. He's quieter when he cums, biting his lip with a soft whimper.

Sebastian's breathing is steadying out now. As Karen gets dressed, he listens to what is happening with Jim and his guy.

“Must be something in the air,” Karen says, smiling at him, embarrassed.

Too late for that, he thinks, automatically waving his hand to make her shut up. Then it occurs to him how weird that is. He slips the condom off, flicking it in the toilet. He wipes his dick off and tucks it away, guiding her out of the bathroom before Jim's finished. No awkward run-ins tonight, no thank you. He's almost tempted to ditch the girl now, but he doesn't want to be sitting alone thinking about this later tonight, so he calls a cab and they head back to hers.

Whatshisname is recovering from the fact Jim pretty much just fucked his face, because that's a new experience for him. He's gagging and choking too much to swallow, cum trailing down his chin as Jim attempts to wriggle back in to his tight ass jeans. Ugh, such effort. He pulls his boots on before the poor guy has really had a chance to process things, giving him a light pat on the head as he steps over him.

“Thanks for that,” Jim says, ignoring the “wait” that follows.

He has another drink at the bar, just to clear the taste of the guy from his mouth. Then he gets a cab home, feeling satisfied in more ways than one. He drinks some water before he crawls in to bed, and for the first time in a while, Jim sleeps through the night.

*

When he wakes the next day, Jim hasn't got the right sense of shame to be mortified. He feels a bit dirty, but it's more to do with the club bathroom, than what took place in it. He has a good long shower, and properly scrubs himself. He feels a bit achey, but it's not too bad, it's kind of nice, in a way. He even has a chance to test out the new shower gel for work, which smells like peaches. Mmm.

He's actually hungry when he's done, so once he's put all his clothes in the wash, he takes himself out for brunch. He eats in a nice, independent café not far from his house, and then has a day out to himself; takes a walk around the shops, spends a while gazing longingly at the designer suits he can't afford yet. Jim's idea of a good time.

Much better than Sebastian's day.

Sebastian wakes in a bedroom filled with a terrifying amount of pony memorabilia and stuffed animals that he definitely didn't notice the night before. Karen is so pretzeled around him that he can't actually escape until she wakes up, which isn't until hours later, and that is when it occurs to him that Jim sent him home with the most clingy girl in the club. That little prick.

He's out the window as soon as she leaves the room to make breakfast.

Once he gets back home, he showers off the shame and crawls in to bed. He needs to sleep for at least another thousand hours, because Jesus, fuck everything. At least it's Sunday; his day of rest, small mercies. Later he gets up to run through some extensive exercise routine, and it's some time between there and his third shower, that he considers quitting his job. Or getting a new route. Or leaving the country.

Fuck.

He's never going to be able to look Jim in the eye again.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian avoids Jim until he can't any more, and then they up their body count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings;  
> violence, death, the general Mormor warnings.
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my own little Sebbybastian, Charlie, as it's our anniversary today. You've made the past 10 months so great, and this story wouldn't exist without you. I love you x

Sebastian comes up with a pretty fool proof plan for avoiding Jim. He just starts signing for Jim's parcels himself, and leaving them at Jim's door with a knock, dashing off before Jim answers.

Granted, it's not the most professional of plans.

Jim's aware of what's happening, but he leaves Sebastian space, lets him get on with it and work through his own dilemma of sexuality. He's been making progress with his empire lately, expanding it outside of the country, which is very exciting. So Sebastian isn't his priority right now. He's not even thinking about him much until he has to make a trip to France.

> I'm going to be out of the country this week, but since you've taken to signing for my parcels anyway, I left a key under the mat so you can leave them inside the door. There's my good boy. -JM

Sebastian hates that “good boy” shit even more now. It makes him cringe. It's awful, and it reminds of that night; which simultaneously makes him feel sick and a bit aroused. Awful.

He doesn't respond to that text for a long time. Finally, he has to, because he's been missing Jim's presence, if he's honest with himself.

> Where are you going? -SM

Jim considers not telling him, since Sebastian's been ignoring him like a child, but he's not that petty. Well, if he is, he doesn't want people to know.

> Avignon. -JM
> 
> Hope you have a good time. -SM
> 
> Maybe I'll bring your back something pretty. -JM
> 
> That might tempt me to knock on your door and stick around next time. -SM
> 
> Ah, so I have to bribe you into visiting now? Must have missed the notice about that. -JM
> 
> I could have sworn I slipped the memo in with your post. -SM
> 
> Perhaps you're confusing me with Doris. -JM
> 
> I sincerely hope not. -SM
> 
> Oh, does this rule only apply to me? -JM
> 
> Maybe. -SM
> 
> That doesn't seem very fair. -JM
> 
> Wouldn't have liked to have gone through with her what happened with you to lead to it, though. -SM
> 
> ...which was? -JM
> 
> Don't be dick or I'll actually just switch routes. -SM
> 
> I'll leave you to deal with whatever bee is in your bonnet, then. -JM
> 
> Thanks. -SM
> 
> Perhaps I'll see you when I get back. -JM
> 
> You will. -SM
> 
> Well, I'll see you then. -JM
> 
> Stay safe while your over there. -SM
> 
> I'll try. You behave yourself until I get back. -JM

*

Maybe an extra week away from Jim help, Sebastian thinks. All he wants to do is put away all this weird worry about him; the desire to protect him, keep an eye on him, please him. He wants it gone. He wants the ability to be a normal fucking bloke, somehow. He smokes more during that week, and drinks more, and is generally a bit of a mess.

*

Jim has a nice time in France. Burns the first few days, as per-fucking-usual, but somehow manages a light tan by the time he's done. He has several meetings and a few dinners with some new connections, and does a bit of sight seeing in his spare hours. It's a good time. He's a little more bronzed and a lot more powerful by the time he comes home.

*

Sebastian's not entirely sure when Jim's due back, but when he checks for the key and finds it gone, he assumes it's now. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself to stop being such a fucking tool, and knocks on Jim's door.

Jim glances up at the sound of the door, smiling. He stands, (slowly) and walks (slowly) across the room. Makes Sebastian wait. He opens the door just wide enough for him to stand in the gap.

“Hey, stranger.”

Sebastian looks up from fiddling with his signature pad. It's been almost three weeks since he's seen Jim, and he can't help his smile at the sight of him.

“Hey,” he says, surprising himself by meeting Jim's eye. “Got a bit of colour while you were gone. Suits you.”

“Yeah, surprisingly. Usually I just burn and flake. Not a great look.” Jim pulls a face of distaste, taking the pen and scribbling his signature. “What have you been up to?”

Sebastian shrugs, handing Jim's package across with his letters on top.

“Nothing interesting, you know. Just the usual. Can't all jet off on a moments notice, eh?”

Jim leans against the door frame, looking Sebastian over for some idea of how he's been doing. He spots a few signs that let him know Sebastian hasn't been feeling as casual as he's acting, and that pleases him. Sebastian chews on his lip, not missing that glance.

“When business calls, gotta answer,” Jim says.

“Not a holiday, then?”

"No, no. Although it was nice to get out of grey old London for a while."

"I can imagine. So, things went well?"

"Mmm, yes, quite well." Jim smiles, secretive.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. Still with the secrets. Well, he supposes he can't blame him. They've hardly been developing a bond of trust lately.

“Well, I'm glad everything's going so well for you.”

"Thank you. As am I."

Sebastian chews his lip again, hesitating.

“Well, uh, it was good to see you again, I guess.”

"Don't you want to see your present?"

"I didn't think you were serious about that," Sebastian says, eyebrows raised.

"If you don't want it..." Jim looks away, playing coy, a little smile at the corner of his lips.

“Go on, then.” Sebastian relaxes a touch, chuckling.

"Come in."

Jim bounces away from the door, dumping his post on the kitchen counter. He disappears into his bedroom for a minute or so. Sebastian follows him in, closing the door and leaving his bag by it, but he only goes as far as the kitchen. He leans against the counter, casual casual, not letting any of his nervous energy show.

Jim reappears with a box that he's tied a big red bow around, trying to be cute. Which... it kind of is. He sets it on the counter, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Sebastian looks at him.

“Go on, then,” Jim says. “Open it.”

Sebastian tugs the ribbon off. It's click open, and he recognises it as a gun case. He thinks it's a gag gift; a chocolate gun or some shit like that. He looks at Jim for another moment, tongue pressed between his lips, before he clicks the case open. There is no chocolate inside, but a very real gun; a good, expensive handgun. He stares, not quite comprehending for several seconds.

“Jim, this... I mean, Jesus. It's beautiful, but how did you afford this?”

“Never worry about that.” It's a complimentary gift for arranging the death of some nuisance, but Sebastian doesn't need to know that. “You like it, then?”

Sebastian laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. He lifts the gun out, feeling the weight, checking the sight. It really is a beautiful gun. A little S.A.C.M -- MLe 1935a, if you must know. 

“I love it.”

“Good.” Jim smiles, watching Sebastian getting a feel for the gun. He turns away from Jim, holding it up and taking aim, just to see how it feels. When he looks back, his expression is slightly embarrassed.

“Kind of want to hug you for this. I'll restrain myself, but, you know. Just letting you know.” Sebastian grins, lopsided. “I should avoid you more often.”

"I wouldn't do that. I might just use the gun _on_ you next time." Jim drags himself up to sit on the counter, almost at a level height with Sebastian now.

“Judging by how you shoot, I like my chances of surviving.”

“Hey! I can take the gun back, if you're going to act like that.”

“You'll have to prise it out of my cold, dead hands,” Sebastian says, chuckling. “And that isn't actually an invitation.”

“No gratitude.” Jim frowns, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

“Awh, come on, I told you, you made me want to hug you. That's about the most gratitude I can show.”

Jim rolls his eyes, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah, yeah.”

"Nah, I mean it,” Sebastian says. “Thanks. You're spoiling me now, I'm starting to get suspicious."

"In that case I'll make sure not to get you anything else. Wouldn't want you spoiled."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"No, no. I've seen the error of my ways."

Sebastian bites back a smirk.

"I'm going to have to start thinking of a way to repay you for the spoiling. Maybe you'll keep it up, then."

"Maybeee." Jim side glances at Sebastian with a smile. Sebastian chuckles, setting the gun gently back into its case.

“Though I have no idea where to start with that.”

"Well there is one teeny tiny little favour I neeeeeed." Pause for dramatic effect. "But I'm not sure you're up to it."

“What is it?" Sebastian tilts his head, frowning.

"I don't know if I should say."

“You might as well, now."

Jim sighs, turning serious.

"I need to be able to trust you with this, so if you're going to pull that ridiculous nonsense of avoiding me ever again, say now so I won't make that mistake."

Sebastian licks his lips, turning his head away. He takes a second to think, before shrugging.

“I'm done with that,” he says. “I'm here.”

Jim looks at Sebastian long and hard, before he slides off the counter, standing in front of him.

"I need someone dead."

Sebastian is quiet and still for a moment, before he nods, “Okay.”

"But I need information from him first,” Jim says.

“Just tell me what you want me to do.”

"Excellent. Come see me after your route and I'll give you the details."

Sebastian nods again, swallowing but staying calm and assertive.

"I'll do that." He nods towards the gun. "Leave that there until I get back?"

"Do." Pause. "I'm taking a risk with you. I could get any number of other people to work with, but I've decided to trust you. Don't disappoint me."

Jim is looking at him with those piercing eyes, big and dark, and Sebastian is caught in that gaze. He stares back, watching Jim carefully. When he speaks, it is with 100% belief.

“You're not taking a risk with me.”

"Prove it." Then Jim softens, business mask slipping away. "Later. Go finish your route."

“I'll see you in a few hours.” Sebastian retrieves his bag, taking one last glance over his shoulder.

"Do be quick, darlin'."

*

He gets through his route as quickly as he can after that. Perhaps he should be questioning his judgement on this. Not killing for purpose, but for profit, and not even his at that; but Jim's. Yet all he's really thinking about is how empty his life is, and the thrill he felt just a few weeks ago, after the last time. Getting that back; that buzz that he's been missing, now he's craving it, like an addict.

He's changed from his uniform when he arrives back at Jim's flat, and he feels like he's walking in to a job interview. With the tone change, he isn't even worried about all the bullshit he was feeling before; the strange arousal, the incident in the club. This is a change he only approves of.

Jim answers the door quickly. He's dressed in a black suit, and the difference in character is noticeable in every one of his movements. He's not cute product tester Jim any more; and Sebastian notices it immediately, notices that he's so different, but unable to put his finger on just how.

"You've changed,” Jim says. “Nice effort, but I've set something out for you in the bedroom. I've rented a car. We'll leave once I've briefed you."

Sebastian is, admittedly, pretty caught off guard. He didn't realise that this would all be happening tonight, but he doesn't let it faze him. He crosses to the bedroom, and finds a more expensive, stylish, darker version of his wardrobe; black jeans, hoodie, gloves, and a nice pair of leather boots. He dresses without question, and this feels just like the old days; obedient soldier mode as he steps in to his uniform.

Jim looks up when he returns, taking a moment to admire Sebastian, tongue flicking out to dampen his lips.

"Okay, so we're going to visit a Mr Lyons. He's had a tip off, is likely to be fleeing the country any time soon, which is why it's important we get him this evening. We will hopefully be able to pick him up from work without drawing attention to ourselves, and then we'll take him for a little chat. You see, he's been selling out his business partners, and they want to know who it is he's really working for. Shy little thing. May need a little... encouragement to get him talking."

“What, you want me to torture him?"

"I didn't say that, sweetheart. Just... rough him up a little."

“Extraction isn't exactly my speciality," Sebastian says, dragging his teeth over his top lip.

"I'll tell you what to do. Now, are we clear on what's happening?"

Sebastian nods, setting his jaw. “Yessir.”

“This is who we're looking for.”

Jim pushes a series of pictures across the counter. Sebastian twists his head to look at them, and then he picks one up, holding it closer to memorize the face.

“Looks like quite the ladies man,” he says, dryly.

Jim's eyes narrow fractionally, but he makes no comment. Now is not the time, Sebastian.

“Come along, then.”

Sebastian grabs his gun, before following Jim out. Jim leads the way downstairs and around the corner, where the car is parked.

Jim's driving is, at best, questionable. He seems to have no concern for signs, lights, or other drivers. Sebastian grips at the handle above his door. He does not want to be another statistic. It's a relief when Jim stops, rather abruptly, alongside a tall building. It's a 'Loading Only' site, but they will be loading poor Mr Lyons in, so that seems fine.

Less than a minute later, as Jim predicted, Mr Lyons steps out from the doors.

“Sebastian.” Jim nods towards him. Fetch boy.

Sebastian slips out on to the pavement. He walks after Mr Lyons for a few seconds, then he's right behind him, a subtle bulge pressing against his back as Sebastian takes a hold of his arm. He flashes him a lovely, charming smile.

“You car is right this way, Mr Lyons.” Even once Sebastian has him in the back of the car, he keeps his gun pressed uncomfortably hard against Mr Lyons, less concerned about keeping it from view once they're inside.

"Good boy," Jim murmurs, starting up the car. Then his voice takes on an overly friendly tone, full of false cheer. "Mr Lyons! How lovely of you to drop in. You feel like telling us who you're selling Mr Bouldaire out to? No words, little bird? Well, we'll have you singing soon enough.”

Jim pulls back in to traffic without even checking, and someone blares a horn behind them. He ignores it, humming to himself as he drives. Sebastian regrets that he can no longer grasp the handle, and he tries not to let Jim's driving put him too on edge. It's not very intimidating to stop and put your seatbelt on in the middle of a kidnapping. He smiles at Mr Lyons, still overflowing with charm, wiggling a finger under his chin to make him squirm away. The gun remains shoved into his ribs.

They arrive at a nice, old, abandoned block, that might have been offices at one point.

"Bring him along."

Jim leads them to a side door, which is loose, and out here they won't be heard, regardless of how much noise Mr Lyons (who is very clearly shitting it) makes. Sebastian tugs him along, keeping him close under a firm grip as he follows Jim. Calm and smiling, like they're on a day trip to the beach, jerking Lyons when he tries to resist.

"Now," Jim turns suddenly, and his playful expression is gone. He takes a few quick steps forward and slaps Lyons hard. Lyons looks like he's going to react, but he casts Sebastian a wary look first. Sebastian stares him down as Jim continues. "This is how this is going to work, my dear. You're going to tell me what I want to know, or darling Sebastian here is going to cut those pretty little fingers off one by one, and hold your silent lips apart while I _choke_ you with them."

A dark smile curls the corner of Sebastian's lips. He'd rather do anything than cut off a bloke's fingers, but he can pretend, he can show Lyons how much he hooopes he'll keep the information to himself so he can have the pleasure.

Lyons swallows, looking between the pair of them, and Jim nearly sighs. Oh, how disappointing. He's one of those people who think they're great when they're getting away with things, but Jim can already see him crumbling, and they haven't even had any fun yet!

"I never meant to-"

Jim slaps him again, his own hand stinging with the impact. He looks sharply towards Sebastian. You're meant to be doing this.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, tucking his gun in to his jeans and cracking his knuckles. He's doing the quiet, dangerous thing right now, as Jim insults him every time he opens his mouth. He's worth more like this, but all he needs is a nod, and he'll take over.

Lyons falls quiet, obviously not knowing what to say now. His instinct is to beg, but Jim doesn't go for that.

"You don't have to do this-"

Jim looks pointedly at Sebastian, who reacts without hesitation, with a nice right hook. Enough to knock Lyons back a bit, draw some blood, but keep him standing and thinking.

"If you're quite finished trying to make your silly little-"

While Jim is talking, Lyons makes a dash for it. Jim sighs and shifts his head slightly for Sebastian to get him. It's easy enough to get him back, and Sebastian gives him a sharp backhand for his trouble, dragging him in front of Jim again, like a cat offering up a dead bird.

Jim's beginning to lose his temper.

"You either speak, or I will slice off your balls and force feed them to you. If you have any, which is beginning to seem less and less likely.”

Lyons pales. He wouldn't put it past this crazy little shit. By his side, Sebastian is starting to look restless. An act, but convincing; frustrated and impatient, looking at Lyons like he's a piece of meat that Sebastian can't wait to take the cleaver to.

“I can't tell you. They'll kill me,” Lyons says. There is blood dripping from his nose, and he looks dangerously close to tears. Jim restrains the urge to roll his eyes.

"And we won't? Hm?" He turns, pacing across the room, as if bored. Then, in a casual tone: "Lovely little girl, your Stella."

Lyons' head snaps up. Ding ding. Jackpot.

“What have you done to her?”

Sebastian circles behind Lyons, ready to grab him if he makes another bolt for it. He isn't exactly thrilled to hear any of this shit. He doesn't want to think about the family, but he's keeping it out of his expression as best as possible.

Jim glances back over his shoulder, feigning surprise.

“Nothing,” he says. “Yet. Why? Do you think I should?”

Lyons seems to struggle with the truth behind this, and then he's blurting out details; who he's working for, where they're based, how it started. More than Jim even cares to know. That was easy. Ordinary people are boring. Once he's got everything he needs, he throws Mr Lyons a sweet smile.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Lyons. Sebastian, can you see our friend _out_."

Sebastian flies through a mental list of his options, but he'd rather not be coated in blood again. As Lyons turns to look up at him hopefully, Sebastian takes him from behind in a chokehold. He tenses his muscles as he keeps him there, using his strength as Mr Lyons struggles. After a several long minutes, after the body has finished its twitches and spasms beneath his hold, Sebastian lets him sag to the floor. He checks for a pulse, just in case. Finding none, he looks up at Jim, who has been watching without moving. It's only when Sebastian meets his gaze that he steps forward.

"Good boy. Unfortunately, we'll have to deal with this one, but I think we'll just dump him in the Thames, yes?"

“Works for me.” He drags Lyons up, hoisting him over his shoulder, taking a moment to get his balance under the new weight. “Sticking him in the boot?”

"That's my boy."

Jim circles around Sebastian to lead the way out. Sebastian follows, waiting for Jim to open the car so he dump Lyons in the boot as gentle as possible. Don't want to accidentally crack his head open. He slams the lid closed after, and gets in to the passenger side, smiling across at Jim like a kid who's found out they're going to their favourite toy store. He's got that feeling like every life he takes makes him feel that bit closer to immortality; that sort of calm rush. He wishes he could always feel like this.

“Sebastian,” Jim says, tone light and casual, like they haven't just committed their second murder in just over a month.

“Jim?”

“What would you do with twenty grand?” he asks, looking out the window.

Sebastian breathes out, puffing his cheeks a bit, chuckling. That's a lot of money.

“Uhhh. Fill a bathtub with five quid notes, lie in it smoking cigars and drinking good whiskey?”

Jim glances at Sebastian, silently questioning,  _are you serious?_

“Well, that's not very creative at all, is it? I was rather hoping you'd at least get me something pretty in return.”

“Yeah, alright Jim.” Sebastian laughs. “I'd buy you something pretty. Never really thought about it before.”

“Well, you have a couple of days.” Jim starts up the car.

“What do you mean?”

"It's sweet that you're willing to kill for me for nothing, but this was a job."

Sebastian turns away to pull on his seatbelt, thinking. It's one thing to do this for someone as a favour, but another entirely to do it for money. But that's quite a lot of money, and he's struggling to make ends meet as it is.

“You're having a moral dilemma _now_? Really? Surely this should only sweeten the deal."

Jim shifts in to reverse, swinging the car backwards and round, before slamming her in to first. He revs the clutch a bit, before letting her shoot off. Sebastian grips the handle, not even questioning Jim's ability to read him.

"Just never really killed for money before. Not really. I mean, the army paid me, but it wasn't exactly a direct exchange."

"I don't have to pay you, if you're so opposed. Just thought you might like an additional option to spending the rest of your life as a postman."

“What, this is going to be a regular thing, now?"

"Might be. If you're up for it."

"It's a dangerous job."

"It is. I'd rather work with you, but..." Jim shrugs. He can find other people.

“Can't say the danger isn't the biggest draw," Sebastian says, smiling.

"Consider it."

"You know I'd rather, eh... accompany you, if you were out doing shit like this."

"It's your choice."

Except Jim's been manipulating him from the start.

Sebastian chews on his lip, trying to relax back in to his seat; not an easy feat with Jim's driving. He knows how he would feel if something happened to Jim and he wasn't around to do anything about it. Knows he might even be jealous at the thought of someone else wheeling around with Jim, doing this with him. Being close while he knocks on the door for a signature every day. 

“What kind of stuff would I have to do?”

"That depends on what clients want me to do for them."

“So I'd just be a Swiss army knife?"

"You'd be assisting me."

“I could get behind that.”

"Think it over. Once you're in, there's no backing out."

“Yeah, alright." Sebastian nods.

Jim fiddles with the radio as he drives.

“Oh, I love this song!”

Then he's singing along to Bad Romance as he easily exceeds the speed limit. Sebastian cringes. Fucking Gaga. She's just a Madonna rip off. He sighs, looking out the window, closing his eyes as Jim drifts across two lanes; as if not seeing it will somehow make it better. It's a blessing that they both make it to a deserted part of the river alive.

"Any chance I can do the driving from now on?" Sebastian clicks off his seatbelt, opening his door.

"What's wrong with my driving?"

“Nothing, I just don't want to die.”

"Hey!" Jim follows Sebastian out of the car, circling around to the back so he can watch. Bye bye, Mr Lyons.

"Do you even have a licence?" Sebastian laughs, shaking his head as he opens the boot. Hello buddy. He hoists the body out again, and if he takes that money, he'll be investing in a heat pack for his lower back. Body over his shoulder, he makes his way slowly to a drop point.

“Technically speaking, yes,” Jim says, following along at his other shoulder.

“Technically speaking?” Sebastian tosses the body, and they both pause to watch the splash of him hitting the water. “So, you don't.”

"I doooo. I just, didn't get it in the conventional way." Jim's mouth curls in to a wicked smile, all proud of himself.

“You never had lessons then?" Sebastian sighs, dusting off his hands. "I'm driving us back."

"I did. I just blew my examiner. What did you think I meant?"

Sebastian looks up to the dear Heavens. Jesus Christ. What did he expect? He shakes his head again, circling to the driver's side.

“Explains a lot.”

“I'm just taking the piss,” Jim says, getting in the passenger's side. "I taught myself. Your face was beautiful, though."

Sebastian doesn't even dignify that with an answer. He pulls his seatbelt on, adjusts the seat, checks the mirrors, before starting the engine.

“Are we just heading back now?”

"Mhmmm."

Jim takes out his phone to fire off some messages for a bit. Then he has three different phone calls in French. Sebastian's glad he can just concentrate on driving while Jim buzzes away with work. He's a much better driver; very confident, and unlike Jim, he actually reads and responds to the road.

Jim looks across at him with a hum when they pull up outside his building again.

"Coming up for a bit?"

“Could do, if you want me to."

"Wouldn't have asked if I wanted you to fuck off, would I?"

“Yeah alright, calm yourself."

Sebastian rolls his eyes as he gets out and locks the car. He follows Jim up to his flat, and it feels like ages since he's been here like this. Outside of work.

“I'm going to change,” Jim says once they're inside, disappearing down to the bedroom.

Sebastian takes his gun out of his waistband. He removes the magazine, and stores it back in the case. Then he boils the kettle and gets their mugs out, falling back in to easy routine.

Jim returns in his PJ trousers and a t-shirt. He leans against the counter, watching Sebastian.

“Tea?”

Jim nods, hopping up on the counter. Sebastian watches him

“So, this was fun,” he says.

“You enjoy yourself?” Jim smiles, resting his head back against the cupboard.

“I did actually, yeah.”

"Good."

"Not as satisfying as the first time, though." Sebastian turns when the kettle clicks, going about making their drinks.

"Is the charm wearing off, or do you prefer to work with your hands?"

"I guess it was more personal before, so it's satisfying. I mean, still good, just not the same."

"Is that your way of saying you like seeing me roughed up first?"

Sebastian shakes his head.

"I don't want you getting hurt again."

"Might happen." Jim swings his legs, leaning forward, watching as Sebastian adds milk to their mugs.

"Well, I'd rather do what I can to prevent that."

Sebastian passes Jim his cup, hoping he won't make a big deal out of that, won't mock him. Jim blows on the surface of his tea, before taking a sip. He hums, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“I'm touched.”

There is a beat of silence between them. Sebastian just nursing his coffee as Jim watches him.

"You were totally different," he says.

"Yeah, well." Jim shrugs. "Business."

"It was good, you were good. I wouldn't like to be on the receiving end."

"You'll just have to behave yourself, then, won't you?" With a little smirk, Jim slides off the counter and sashays through to the living room.

“I do my best.” Sebastian matches that smirk, following Jim through.

"Well, I haven't poisoned your coffee yet."

"That's only because I've been making it." Sebastian takes his place by Jim's side on the couch. “So we revert to bad TV again?"

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

“It's your place."

"And what riveting activities would we be partaking of at your home, then?"

"Oh, I don't know. We could start out with some light crossword puzzle fun, then kick it up a notch to extreme Monopoly, maybe even follow it up with a few rounds of Cluedo. Things would be getting out of hand then, so we could wind down with some cardio and weight-training, and then crank it up to eleven with a few rounds of darts and some Bill Murray films." Sebastian grins at Jim over the rim of his cup.

"Crosswords are easy and I'd win at every boardgame." Jim doesn't address the other points. He doesn't go for any of that nonsense exercise, he knows Sebastian doesn't have a darts board, and they could easily watch films here.

"So what you're saying is, our only options ever are bad TV and murder?"

"It doesn't always have to be murder. Just crime, in general."

“Well, general crime! That's a total open door."

"So difficult to please." Jim smiles.

"We must have something else in common."

"Can't forget the witty banter."

"I guess we could diss Cambridge a bit, too."

"Fuck Cambridge."

"Bunch of tossers."

Jim giggles, and Sebastian grins.

"Not going to recommend getting drunk, though it's an option. So, we've got; you beating me at various boardgames, witty banter, bad TV, dissing Cambridge, murder, general crime... That everything?"

"All while drinking copious amounts of tea and coffee with the occasional littering of post puns." Jim frowns "It's a bit woeful, isn't it?"

"What did we even talk about every day to get us this far?"

“I think it's mainly just the banter." Jim gives a sad little sigh. Sebastian mimics him.

"I guess. That and you insulting me."

"True! Lots to work with there."

"I'd prefer you didn't, obviously."

"And yet you brought it up."

"I was only saying it's most of what you say to me."

"Yeah yeah."

"I guess we could just... Talk."

"Wow! Talking! That's new."

"We might actually have something else in common."

"Right then. What're we discussing?"

"Ehh, we could play twenty questions."

"I feel like this benefits you more than me."

"Only because you researched me. You have a better idea?"

"Because I know everything I need to know about you." Jim looks at Sebastian, sulkily. He sighs; all long suffering. "You go first, then."

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian play 20 questions; tragic backstories are revealed, and they make an interesting bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings;  
> Descriptions of sex and violence.

"Let's just do frivolous stuff you can delete later then." Sebastian sits back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. “What's your favourite book?”

"That's ridiculous. Why would I apply nonsense sentiment to any particular book? I enjoy different ones. I don't have a favourite."

It occurs to Sebastian that with Jim, this game is going to be a lot more difficult than usual.

“Uhh, alright. What was the, uhhh, last book you read?”

“Re-read The Metaphysics. Aristotle.”

“Right. Well, this is so much fun.”

“Hey,” Jim kicks Sebastian's thigh, then sighs. "What paper brick of words have you decided to favour above the rest, then?"

"Uhh, I guess I really liked Paradise Lost."

"Good for you. Your go."

"Uhh, were you in any clubs at school?"

"No. When was your first kill?"

"When I was seventeen." Sebastian pauses. "When was yours?"

"Thirteen. How?"

"You mean, weapon of choice, or..?"

"I mean how did you kill them.”

"I waited until he was leaving the pub and hit him with a hurly bat." Sebastian's expression betrays nothing. "You?"

"Chlostrium botulinum in his eczema medicine." Jim smirks, pleased with himself, and Sebastian looks at him with interest.

“What is that?”

"It's bacteria. Induced a fit. They thought he drowned. No one asked any questions."

“Yours sounds a bit better planned than mine," Sebastian says, smiling.

"Doesn't it? Just a little."

"What did he do?"

The humour vanishes from Jim's face. He blinks, rolling his head side to side on his neck before shrugging.

“He laughed at me,” he says.

Sebastian knows better than to question that.

“Okay.”

There is a stretch of silence between them, before Jim breaks it.

“What did yours do?”

"That's, ah... that's complicated,” Sebastian says. Jim stares him down. “It's a whole story. Do you really wanna hear that?”

"I did ask."

“I, uh... I'd known this girl since I was ten. We were only friends.” Sebastian sits up, scratching his head. “I only saw her during holidays when I went back to Ireland, and we started dating when I was... fifteen? Yeah. The first time we slept together, I got her pregnant. They didn't tell me, but eventually I found out her father made her have an abortion. Which was fucking unheard of then and there. It was against the church, and it just... _fuck_. I don't know. He was an abusive piece of shit. He forbid her from seeing me. The shit he did to her, especially after that... So, I killed him. He was a fucking drunk anyway. Owed money all over the town. The people just figured someone did it over that and it was never really looked into. But her family was falling apart then. I went into working part time and sent her any money I made. Same when I joined the army, basically everything went to her. I fucking loved her, you know and..."

Sebastian cuts off, looking up. He didn't mean to get so sucked in to that one; never told anyone all of that before.

“Sorry.”

“It's alright,” Jim says.

“Anyway.” Sebastian clears his throat. “She, eh, left me. Stopped writing and all that, didn't turn up when I got leave. Think I was about two years in the army then, maybe close to three. I checked up on her, to make sure she was okay. She was seeing some other guy, and uh, I think they're married now. A few kids. Good for her, you know?"

Sebastian bites down hard on his lip, and _scratches_ near his eye. No tears here. Jim shuffles closer, and for one terrifying moment he's convinced himself he's going to give Sebastian a consoling pat on the shoulder or something, but then he realises what a truly terrible idea that is. He decides to just store the information away, but otherwise ignore that it happened. Sebastian takes a long sip of his coffee, giving himself a moment before he asks his next question.

"Uhm, where do you most want to travel to?"

"Everywhere.” Jim shrugs. “I'd like to see more of France. Germany. I like Italy. Maybe go to America some day. You?"

“Yeah, I'd like to go everywhere. Army takes you places, but you don't get much opportunity to explore. Iceland's probably top of the bucket list, though.” Sebastian shrugs. He wants to be a real explorer; hiking, camping, all that outdoors-y stuff. “Biggest pet peeve?”

“Oh. _Oh._ I only get one?” Jim's face screws up in an intense look of concentration. “Stupid people. How many people have you fucked?”

“Uh.” Sebastian frowns, trying to tally them up in his head, and it takes him a while but he eventually arrives at a solid, “one hundred and thirteen.”

“Really?” Jim's nose scrunches up. “Are you clean? I hope you're clean.”

“I've been tested. I'm clean.”

“Your go, you big slut.”

"I'm not a slut,” Sebastian says, snorting. Not like Jim's one to talk, by how he was acting the other night. “It's a healthy sex life. When did you move to England?”

“When I was ten.”

“And you pretty much kept the accent?” Sebastian asks. Jim shrugs. “That's impressive. Your turn.”

“Why redheads?”

"I'll give you one guess."

“I would have rather thought that would put you off redheads.”

“Yeah, you'd think. I've got a lot of issues, I guess.”

 _You really do_ , Jim thinks.

“What was your longest relationship?” says Sebastian.

“Ten months.” Jim pulls his knees up, resting his chin on them. “What's the furthest hit you've made?”

"I killed two insurgents and took out their machine gun from 2474 metres. That was... 914 metres beyond the guns recommended range. Took three seconds for the bullets to travel."

Sebastian smiles, and Jim returns it; he knew giving Sebastian a chance to show off would cheer him up.

“Impressive.”

“Favourite things to eat?”

“Why must I have favourite everythings?” Jim's face scrunches up again. “Sweet things. Preferred way to die?”

“Uhh, in action. You?”

"By my own choosing."

“Better to just never die, right?"

"Precisely. Biggest fear?"

That question catches Sebastian off guard. He sits back, taking a while to think about it.

“Dying without leaving my mark,” he says eventually, clearing his throat. “You?”

"I'm not afraid of anything."

“I thought we were being honest.” Sebastian smirks.

“I'm not.”

“Being honest, or afraid of anything?”

"Afraid of anything."

“Right. Alright, then.”

"If you could do anything for the rest of your life, what would you do?"

“I don't know.” Sebastian frowns deeply. That's a hard question. “Not this. Not delivering packages. I guess something like the army. Something that's different every day. Exciting. Potentially life threatening. Guns.”

Jim smiles. That's basically as good as a job acceptance. Sebastian looks at him; sees that face and knows.

“There's no point in me considering, is there?” he says. “How could I turn that down?”

Jim's smile grows in to a full grin, and he holds out his hand.

“Welcome aboard.” He shakes Sebastian's hand, nice and firm, giving it one last squeeze before he lets go.

“No backing out, now.”

“Nopeee. This means I can boss you around now. Officially.”

“That's... great.”

"Don't look so put out, we both know you let me boss you around anyway."

"When I played you little man servant, once. And in working situations, sure."

"I asked you to kill someone for me and you didn't even hesitate."

"I don't know why."

"You're my good boy." Jim tilts his head back, looking rather pleased as Sebastian sighs; long, tortured.

“You need to cut that shit out,” he says, but he's just thinking about the club again. Frowning, trying to shake those thoughts away. “So, you're... my boss, now?”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

“What's the kinkiest thing you're into?”

“Is there a ranking system?”

"I'm leaving it for you to judge."

"I could... eh. Tell you a few, and you can judge?"

"Well, get on with it, then." Jim quirks an eyebrow.

"Uhm; public sex, orgies, dominant women, restraints." Sebastian purses his lips, thinking. “Lingerie, or, eh, being threatened with violence. But that doesn't really crop up much, because it's a trust thing, yeah?”

“I see.” Jim smirks, because that's practically vanilla to him.

“I'm almost scared to ask about yours.”

“Then don't.”

“You could tell me one, midrange, then.”

Jim chews his lower lip thoughtfully.

“Well,” he says. “You already know one.”

“How could I forget?”

“Shall we place that as midrange? Yes.”

“Yeah. I guess that could be midrange. Alright.”

"Well then."

"Still your go."

"So. Orgies." Jim leans forward, interested. "What's the biggest group you've ever been in?"

Sebastian glances upwards. His lips turn down a little at the corners as he considers, and it's clear that he's trying to count.

“Ehh... eleven, but that was a bit of a mess. There's a sweet spot. That was not it.”

“God.” Jim laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like a mess.”

“You ever done something like that?”

“Tried a threesome once.” Jim pulls a face.

“But?”

"I don't like it when the attention isn't focused on me."

“That's not surprising." Sebastian smiles.

"They had to be reminded too often."

"Two other men, or..?"

"A man and a woman." Jim sandwich.

“So that's not a winning formula for you, then." Sebastian chuckles.

“No.” Jim smiles. “Anything you want to try that you've never had the chance?”

“No.” _Yes_. “Not really.” _You._ “What about you?”

“A few things... orgasm denial. Knife play.” Jim's tongue slips out to wets his lips, and Sebastian swallows as he watches him.

“How does that work?”

“Which?”

"I mean, how haven't you tried them before?"

"They're not the kind of things you really trust strangers with, now, are they?"

"Ten month relationship; you're the kink master, apparently, and those never came up?"

"It wasn't exactly a trusting relationship." Jim's face darkens.

“Fair enough.” Sebastian nods. Not going to push that. “Well, I... hope you find someone to test those with.”

Jim sighs, a touch regretful; probably not.

“You're less into the relationship thing than I am, aren't you?” Sebastian chuckles.

“People bore me.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You asked.” Jim smirks.

"Asked you quite a few things. Think I owe you some answers."

"Strangest place you've fucked someone? And most public."

“Strangest place... _oh_! You know those most haunted rides? The ones that take you through all the dark tunnels and things jump out at you? You should see the photo." Sebastian smirks. "Most public, uhh... maybe in an abandoned tube car late at night between stops? But, it was empty. Though it was a public place, so."

"Yourrr turn~"

"Most embarrassing moment?"

"I don't particularly do embarrassed."

“Nothing?"

"I guess I have no shame." Jim shrugs.

“Yeah, okay.” Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “Fine. Next.”

“Worst sexual experience?”

“Uh, let's see.” Sebastian exhales slowly, his cheeks puffing. “Yeah, okay. There was this brothel out where we were stationed in Iraq, and a bunch of the guys went with me. Everyone got taken in by girls basically just walking through the street. I got pulled by this little thing. Thought I might fucking break her, she was so small. Anyway, we're about to get down to it and she just starts crying for no reason. And I'm just standing there half naked, with a boner, and she's crying and crying and saying something in a language I don't have a clue about, and then there's about four other guys all screaming in another language with varying degrees of anger. I don't have a clue what's happening, so I just start yelling at these guys, and then there's another girl being dragged in? And they stand around and watch the crying first girl fuck this new girl, and then they're looking at me like I'm supposed to be doing something. So I... get in there. But it's weird as fuck, and there's just some guys smoking cigars and watching, and wow, suddenly I can't get it up. And more and more people start coming into the room. So they can stand and jerk off to this weird fucking thing. It was so surreal. I mean, eventually I fucked the new girl and I just... I fucking got out of there as quickly as possible. I'm still not entirely sure it wasn't some fucked up dream, only I had this massive scratch mark down my back, so."

Jim blinks, slow, with the indifference of a cat, but he's actually quite amused by that little story. "Not much of a performer then, hm?" The first sign of amusement flickers on his face, eyes bright.

“Not then, no.” Sebastian chuckles. “But that was... I don't know what that was. So, what about you, then?”

Jim's jaw tenses, tight, just for a second. He recovers himself quickly and smiles; slow, bitter.

“Fucking the same person for ten months.” He's trying to play it off as a joke, but there's a sarcastic bite to his voice.

“Okay, no.” Sebastian shakes his head. “What was that? I've been skirting around it all evening. Just tell me and I'll never ask about it, and know how to avoid mentioning anything related to it."

Jim clenches his teeth, eyes narrowing, and for a moment he looks like he's about to lose his temper. Then he just shrugs it off casually.

"It's nothing particularly interesting. After my parents' untimely demise, I was on the streets. He put a roof over my head. I had to pay rent somehow."

“Alright.” Sebastian nods. “Didn't you have any inheritance from your parents? Or other family to live with?”

"Obviously not if I had to let someone fuck me for the better part of a year." Jesus Christ, Sebastian, engage your brain a little.

“Yeah, well, obviously.” Sebastian looks away. “I'm just asking why none of that was an option.”

"We barely had money to survive on when we were alive. Any family back home wanted nothing to do with us." Jim pauses, but Sebastian knows things now; knows about him. "And I'm legally dead."

Sebastian's nodding along; yes, makes sense, yes, ye- wait, what? Perhaps he should be shocked. Appalled. In too deep for that now, so he just smiles.

“You're... I mean, you.” Sebastian touches Jim's arm. Yes, he's real. “You faked your own death? That's perfect.”

Jim tries to disguise how delighted he is, but it doesn't work. Whatever. He's a genius, and he likes it when people recognise that.

“Yes. Legally, I don't exist.”

“That's... fucking amazing.” Sebastian smiles, amazed, staring at Jim like Jesus has risen. Jim bows without standing.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“I mean, it's perfect for your crime... criminal, thing. Did you know you'd be doing this then?”

"I murdered someone when I was thirteen. What do you think?"

"I killed someone when I was a teenager, didn't mean I knew I would be signing up for this."

"I was basically still a child, and mine was much better crafted than yours. I was made for this."

"No arguments there."

Jim smiles, self-satisfied; so pleased with himself.

"Well,” says Sebastian. “Couldn't have picked a better employer myself."

"No, you could not. My turn?"

"Yup."

"Have you ever... kissed a guy?" Jim sounds genuinely curious rather than mocking. _Sounds_. "Or, ever wanted to?"

“Had orgies.” Sebastian swallows. “Things like that aren't always avoidable.”

Jim pokes Sebastian's thigh with his foot.

“That's not an answer.”

"Yes it is."

Jim sighs, dramatically drawn out.

"Your turn," he says.

“Are you a top or a bottom?” Sebastian asks, pretending he doesn't know.

"I prefer to get fucked, if that's what you're asking. I don't always have to be on the bottom. I've been informed I'm an excellent ride."

"I'm sure your talents are wasted on testing dildos."

"Good thing I quit yesterday."

“Seriously?" Sebastian blinks.

"Yep. Today was my last package."

“Wow. The end of an era.”

"Some era."

"Not gonna miss having me on your doorstep every other day?"

"You are working for me now, it's not like I won't see you. You should quit."

"Wouldn't it look weird if I quit my job and was able to survive without an obvious income?"

"Because there are so many people in your life to question that situation."

“Okay,” Sebastian says, nodding. “I don't have anyone. Fine.”

“Problem solved. Favourite position?”

“Against the wall. Simple. Yours?”

"Depends on what mood I'm in, who I'm with, what gender they are, etc."

"You must have a favourite overall."

"No. Why settle for one when you can have them all."

"Well, do you prefer men or women?"

“Men, I suppose.” Jim scrunches his nose up. “They're generally rougher. Less effort. More focus on me."

"Alright, so I'm guessing you prefer angry sex?"

"Mmm." Eyes closed, Jim nods, a blissful smile on his face.

"And what's your favourite way to fuck or be fucked when you're angry and with a guy?"

"Against something. Or over something."

"There we go, we got there eventually."

"Yeah, yeah."

Jim rolls his eyes. Sebastian smirks, though he's a touch surprised that Jim enjoys anything borderline abusive with the context of that ten months being fucked for a place to live; it sounded fairly abusive, from what he gathered.

“Your turn,” is all he says.

"Okay, favourite sexual activity excluding actual penetration?"

"Uhhh, can't say no to a blowjob, eh?"

"Fair enough. Go."

"Tell me what yours is and I'll eventually stop stealing your questions. Promise."

"I do enjoy a good build up. Decent foreplay. Teasing them until they're desperate. Back scratching, neck biting, grinding against each other."

“Anything as long as you're being focused on is good, right?"

"True. I do like it when they're needy, though. They make the prettiest little noises."

Sebastian smiles fondly, tilting his head.

“They really do.”

“Okay,” Jim says. “If you could fuck anyone, who would you?”

"Awh, I was going to ask you that next. Shit. Alright ehhh... Christina Aguilera."

"Of course you were. How convenient." Jim hums, thoughtful. "I'm not sure. Is it weird that I'd have liked a go with Bundy?"

"What, like the serial killer?" Sebastian frowns.

"Yes."

"Why him?"

"I think he'd be interesting in bed. Dahmer would be too predictable, and honestly, I'm not sure I could bear that moustache. Little eyebrow tweaking and old Ted wouldn't be so bad."

“You have said a lot of weird shit to me, but that one takes the cake.”

Jim giggles. Sebastian raises his eyebrow.

“You're a prick.”

“Well, I do think he would be interesting.” Jim chuckles. “I don't know. I don't pick people on appearance alone. I need a read on them.”

“So, what makes someone interesting in your books for that?”

“I can get a sense of what they like, so I know if they'll fit with my tastes.”

“I don't mean this how you'll take it, but out of curiosity, do I fit with your tastes?”

Jim blinks, stares at Sebastian, looks him over, and smirks.

“I might push your limits. Don't know if you could take it.”

“I'm not even going to argue with that,” Sebastian says, smiling.

“Turn offs?”

“Little asshole know-it-alls?”

“Hey!” Jim gives Sebastian a hard kick in the leg.

“Just, uhh, general stuff; bald chicks, but then if they're hairy anywhere else – no thank you. I mean, there's one place I could maybe give them a pass on, but I'm still not gonna be overly pleased. Ehh, bad oral hygiene. I mean, I know I stink of smoke, but if they whisper sweet nothings and all I can smell is the curry they had for dinner, fuck that. Also, probably emotionally clingy women. And thank you for that, by the way. I woke up in Equestria the other week. Thank God she lived on the first floor, or I might still be there.”

Jim laughs, expression innocent.

“Whoops. Can't tell everything.”

“You fucking knew.” Sebastian squints at him; playfully accusatory.

“Can't read minds, Sebastian.”

“You're so full of shit. You definitely set me up.”

“I would never!”

“I smell your bullshit.”

“What-everrrr. Your turn.”

“Did you try to engage me in conversation when we first met because you wanted to fuck me?”

“No. I always talk to the postmen. Makes me appear friendly. Makes people less likely to suspect anything.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Why?” Jim feigns offence.

“Just means I was being paranoid when we first met.”

“Haha. Dodged a bullet there, didn't I?”

“You sure did.”

“Yeuck.” Jim sticks his tongue out, before grinning. “Has Tony ever asked about me?”

“I came in to work the other day and he was talking with some of the others, and judging by how they dropped volume when I walked in, he was letting everyone know that I'm a raging homo with an angry Irish boyfriend.” Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“With a _cute_ angry Irish boyfriend.”

“If you do say so yourself.”

"You're right. Tony would probably find 'irresistibly sexy' more accurate."

"Your ego knows no bounds."

"Hmmm. Your turn."

"Uhh..." Sebastian chews his lip, thinking. "Was that stabbing actually you being mugged, or was it something to do with your crime thing?"

"Oh, that was a little business mishap."

“And the guy in the alley?" Sebastian looks closely at Jim; watching him carefully.

"His brother. Probably attempting to avenge him or something foolish like that

"You could have just told me that."

"I didn't know how you'd react back then, sweetheart, don't be silly. One doesn't go around sharing that stuff with everyone."

"You had to know what I'd do when you lied about who he was."

"Didn't know how far you'd go. Wasn't sure you'd actually _kill_  him.” Jim practically purrs those last few words.

“He still tried to hurt you. Clearly wanted to do worse than have a nice chat in an alleyway. I might've done the same if you'd been honest.”

"Hurt me? Oh, darling, he was out for blood. It's rather fortunate you were there. Not sure what I could have done with that silly little hole in my side."

"Anyone else out there who wants to pull shit like that on you?"

"Possibly. You don't make very many friends in this business."

“Kinda glad you don't go out much, now,” says Sebastian, smiling.

"I actually do go out when you're not around, you know."

"I was kidding."

"Would you even have believed me if I told you how I got stabbed?"

"I don't know. I guess you would have had to... yeah, maybe not."

"Precisely."

"Where do you go out, then? When I'm not here."

"Where people usually go? Cafés, shops, the park."

“We could always do that as an alternative to couches and bad TV."

"What, go strolling in the park?"

"Yeah, maybe not. That sounds gay."

"I'm sure there will be lots of ladies for you to flex at,” Jim says, grinning.

“Yeah.” Sebastian snorts. “But they see two dudes in the park they'll all be a load of Tonys."

"You are so very paranoid, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” Sebastian shrugs.

"Maybe when you quit I'll get Tony to take me walking in the park."

"I'm sure you'd make a lovely couple."

"Hmm." Jim takes a moment of contemplation, before shaking his head.

"Ohh, is he not meeting your standards? Don't match your tastes?"

"No. He's too squishy and romantic."

"Bless him."

"Yeah yeah. Is it your go?"

"Pretty sure it's yours."

"Strangest thing you've gotten off to?"

Sebastian looks at Jim for a few moments.

“You,” is all he says, and then kind of feels like he's dreaming in that floaty, _fuck, why did I say that?_ sort of way. Jim says nothing; just tilts his head and looks at Sebastian with those big, dark eyes, as if he's mentally taking him apart. Sebastian abruptly clears his throat.

“What's your biggest regret?”

"Nothing major. A few bad business decisions when I was younger, but I fixed them. I don't make bad decisions very often. If you were female for a day, what would you do?"

"I'd get fucked, or have a wank or something,” Sebastian says, smiling. “Heard girls' orgasms feel totally different. Then I'd probably just hang out in a ladies changing room for the rest of the day. If you were me for a day, what would you do?"

"If I were you for a day? Shave and take you shopping." Jim smiles. "Get rid of your ugly clothes."

“You don't like the beard?” Sebastian rubs at his little scruff, like he's offended. “I thought you liked it rough.”

"Not into ugly facial hair, no. If you were me what would you do, then?"

"I don't know, actually. There's nothing I could do as you that I couldn't do as myself, is there?"

"Isn't there?"

"Well, what would you recommend I do, if I was you for a day?"

"I'd recommend you look after me until we switch back or there will be consequences,” Jim says.

“Well I'm not going to go jumping off bridges, am I?"

"Don't want any of your tramps on my dick."

“Why would I fuck someone as you?” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Literally the only perk of going on the pull as you would be guys might buy me drinks for a change."

"I highly doubt you would have guys buy you drinks, even if you were as pretty as me. Your attitude is a big no-no."

"What's wrong with my attitude?"

"God forbid a man even glance at you. Not to mention your body language. You go all tense and defensive. It's obvious you're not interested."

"If there was a free drink in it, I could pretend for that long."

"You couldn't pretend if you wanted to."

"Chicks pretend to be interested in guys all the time for free shit. If they can, I can."

Jim licks his lips, grinning widely. He shakes his head, disbelieving.

"I don't think you caaan," he says.

"I could. If I wanted to, and I was getting something out of it. I definitely could."

"O-kay. If you say so."

"Hey, I played a tree in my school play, once. Don't underestimate my acting abilities." Sebastian smirks.

"Bit of a difference between a tree and a fag."

"Why don't we have a wager, then?"

"With what stakes?"

"If I win, you have to go on a lovely romantic date with Tony."

"Oh so you get a free drink, meanwhile, I have to convince a straight guy to take me out? A straight guy that thinks I have a boyfriend. That hardly seems fair."

"You don't think I'll win, so what's the problem?"

"I think with those stakes, I'm going to need you to do more than talk someone into buying you a drink."

"Just name your forfeit."

"I definitely think there needs to be some kissing and light groping for this to be worth my time."

"Oh, scared now, are you?"

"I'm not scared, I just don't think that's a very fair exchange."

"You think I'm ugly and a homophobe, I'm sure it'll go fine. Just pick a forfeit."

"I don't make deals that aren't in my favour."

"Alright, light groping."

"And kissing. With tongue."

“Fuck that.”

"I think this will be a valuable life lesson for you," says Jim.

"How do you figure that?"

"I just do. C'mon, don't be a baby, you've kissed a guy before."

"I don't think you going on a date with Tony is worth me kissing a guy."

"How is kissing worse than groping? Pick a smooth one, pretend he's a lady."

“So what happens if I fail?" Sebastian asks, rubbing at his forehead.

"If you fail..." Jim chews on his lower lip, before grinning. "You let me dress you for a week. And you buy me something nice."

“Yeah, that's not so bad."

"I'm not done. You have to take me on a date. A proper one."

"Why the fuck would I take you on a date?"

"Because you lost the bet. Duh. Keep up."

"Yeah, but... why would you want _that_?"

"Just because I don't want a relationship, doesn't mean I don't deserve to be spoiled every once in a while."

"So if I win, I've been molested by a guy. If I lose, I have to be gay with you?"

Jim stares Sebastian down, lips pursed in vague annoyance.

"You don't have to touch me or anything, amadán."

"A date with a man is gay without touching, _amadán_."

"No one else has to know it's a date, doofus."

Sebastian glares back at Jim for a long moment, before offering his hand.

“Fine. Deal.”

"Excellent." Jim shakes, grinning all the while.

"I'm assuming you know all the best homo-hangs in town?"

"Anywhere in Soho is probably your best bet."

"And you'll be there keeping a watchful eye, I suppose?"

"Of course. Wouldn't have you fibbing to me."

"So, when?"

"When will you have worked yourself up for it?"

“Not tonight,” Sebastian says, running his hand through his hair. “But I guess the sooner, the better."

"You tell me when, and I'll be there."

“Exciting stuff."

"Oh, I'm very excited." Jim wriggles down the couch, looking at Sebastian through the gap of his knees.

"Course you are. Any ideas for seducing Tony once I win?"

"In that unlikely case, I'm going to cry and tell him we broke up because you never wanted to be seen in public with me."

"And that's how you'll get a straight to date you, eh?"

"He already dislikes you, and he's a big softy." Jim takes a breath in and closes his eyes. When he opens them, they're brimming with tears, and his lower lip quivers. His voice is wobbly, on the verge of breaking. "Am I r-really such an embarrassment? I just wanted to get coffee or s-something every once in a while. Maybe I-"

Jim breaks off, gasping in a breath.

“Maybe I was asking too much.”

Sebastian watches him in disbelief.

“That's... good.”

“He will, of course, assure me I am not an embarrassment, and offer to take me for coffee after work.” Jim grins, wiping away a few loose tears.

"Are you sure you could put up with that for a whole date?"

"Tony or the waterworks?"

"Both."

"I will be very pleased and grateful to have someone finally treating me like a human being. Tony will be very reassuring and lovely. My hands will wander after a bit to show him how grateful I am. He will get uncomfortable. I'll go for the kiss. He'll very gently tell me that while I'm a great guy, he just doesn't swing that way."

"That's just beautiful. Shame you're not talented enough to make such a sweet, squishy romantic gay."

"If I really wanted, I could get him in my bed, but I'd rather make him awkward and leave him be so he won't attempt to pursue friendship."

"No you couldn't.” Sebastian laughs. "You're all talk."

"I could, but we're not getting into that. One bet is enough for now."

“Yeah yeah. We'll get to that, then."

"I'm not sleeping with Tony. I'll never get rid of him. I'll have to move."

"Just be glad he isn't Arthur."

"Ugh." Jim shudders visibly.

"Aren't you so lucky?"

"Because I got stuck with you?"

"Stuck with?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me here."

"Yeah yeah."

“Well done, you bagged yourself the hottest postman in all the land."

“Hm.” Jim looks sceptical.

"Admit it."

"I'm not going to lie to make you feel good."

"I do it for you all the time!"

"When I win I am going to dress you very, very gay."

"And I won't leave the house."

"You'll have to for our date."

"We didn't clarify when the date had to be."

"Are you just going to keep putting it off in the hopes I'll die first?"

"Doesn't matter which of us die first."

"You're such a dick."

"I'm pretty sure I've never tried to cover that up."

"You're being especially dickish right now. Remember I'm your boss now."

"I'm off duty."

"You're never off duty. I'm a slave-driver."

"Not unless you're paying me by the hour."

"20p an hour. Sorted."

"I didn't agree to that."

"You never asked about wages before accepting. Your mistake."

"I also didn't sign anything."

"Boohoo, go complain to your union."

"I don't technically work for you if there's no contract." Sebastian smiles.

"I think we are a bit beyond contracts at this point."

"Mister Business doesn't want contracts?"

"You know, if you haven't been working for me, I don't have to pay you."

"This is dissolving into shit, fast. Maybe we should actually just sit down and hash out the details at some point."

"I'll have a contract drawn up for you in a few days."

"I'll have my lawyer look over it."

Jim rolls his eyes, stifling a yawn.

“Tired?” Sebastian asks.

“'M fine.”

"You're allowed to be tired. You did kidnap a guy today, and kill him, and dump the body... No, _wait_..."

"I did all the planning. You just followed orders like a good soldier."

"I did all the heavy lifting."

"Poor baby. Are your lil arms tired?"

"Oh I'm sorry, is it really tough to Google his work address, and find out his hours from his secretary?"

"Why don't I let you plan everything down to the second next time. See how successful-" Jim is interrupted by a yawn. "That is."

“Go to bed.” Sebastian sighs. “I should go home anyway."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm not acting your boss, I'm being your mate."

"Don't care."

"Why don't you want to sleep?"

Jim blinks a few times.

"I won't sleep."

“Why not?”

"Just. My head won't shut down. I'll just be lying in bed until I get bored enough to get up again."

"I've seen you sleep before."

"Yes well, the human body will eventually shut down if it's deprived long enough. Some nights I can sleep. Most nights I'm lucky if I get three or four hours."

"That sucks." Sebastian purses his lips. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"It's fine. I'm used to it."

"Guess being the smartest man in the world has it's drawbacks."

"There's always a catch."

"Still worth it?"

"Mmmm.”

“If I were you for a day,” Sebastian says. “I'd let you sleep."

Jim laughs at that; a cute, tired little laugh.

"I'm sure my body would be very grateful."

“Too bad we can't actually trade, then."

"I will survive, you know."

"I know."

"Good." Jim pushes himself to his feet, lifting his mug and heading off to make himself tea. Sebastian watches him with a soft laugh; feeling so at home here, even with all the weirdness. “Coffee?” Jim asks. “Or are you leaving?”

“You need me?”

"Can't see me needing anyone else killed tonight."

“I'll pop on, then.” Sebastian gets to his feet. "I'll see you around or something? Text you when I'm ready to be a fag, if I don't have any packages for you any more."

Jim looks across at Sebastian with a tired little smile.

"I look forward to it." He laughs. "See ya."

Sebastian ducks in to the bedroom to grab the clothes he came in, giving Jim a little wave on the way past. Jim watches him go, and when his tea is ready, he sits down to work on that contract.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian gets his gay on.

It's Saturday night when Sebastian finally texts.

 

> Busy tonight? -SM
> 
> Not particularly. You ready to get your gay on? -JM
> 
> That's how we're going to phrase it? -SM
> 
> Yes, I think so. -JM
> 
> Fantastic. -SM
> 
> Yeah -SM  
>  I'm ready to get my gay on -SM
> 
> Goody! What time? -JM
> 
> What's peak homo time? -SM
> 
> 10/11ish. -JM
> 
> Yeah alright, so should we meet somewhere in Soho for 9:30 or something? -SM
> 
> Yes! Meet me at the corner near Chinatown, I'll pick where we're going. -JM  
>  Aw, Bastian's first gay pull. I'm so excited. -JM
> 
> Any hints? -SM
> 
> No, you're doing this alone. -JM
> 
> Excellent. -SM
> 
> See you then, big boy. -JM
> 
> Yeah yeah. -SM

*

Jim arrives a few minutes after half past, as he doesn't want to wait for Sebastian. He's dressed in a plum v-neck that goes nicely with his faded tan, a tight leather jacket, some dark jeans, and his boots. Sebastian is waiting for him at the corner, wearing the outfit Jim got him for their little Lyons adventure, as Jim has more sense for the homo, and for dressing him, apparently.

Sebastian glances at Jim when he arrives, flashing him a smile. He's already been drinking a bit, just trying to loosen up.

“Bit of colour wouldn't have hurt,” Jim says, raising an eyebrow. “Regardless, shall we?”

He's already walking on, leading the way around the corner.

“If it's not neon or camo, I don't have a clue.”

“You don't have a clue at all,” Jim says, walking until they come to a nice little club he's been to a few times before. “Here we are. Ready?”

“Ready as I'll ever be.” Sebastian chews his lip, looking over the place, and Jim smiles.

“Here we go, then,” he says, happily padding on in as if he owns the place.

Sebastian takes a moment to pump himself up, before following Jim in to the noise, the lights, the people that Sebastian would normally spring a mile from. Jim leads them zigzagging to the bar, side glancing at Sebastian. He orders them both a drink; a nice fruity cocktail for himself, and some whiskey for Sebastian.

"I don't count. A little liquid courage before you start."

“Shame.” Sebastian smirks. “You just spoiled my plan."

"You didn't have to accept. I'll make sure to never buy you a drink again."

"I meant my plan to seduce you, obviously."

"Ha ha ha,” Jim deadpans.

"You're not going to get jealous, are you?"

"As if, moron."

“Alright.” Sebastian licks a drop of liquid from his top lip. “Sure.

"You see any targets yet?"

“I don't...” sighing, Sebastian looks around, “really know.”

Jim hops up on a bar stool, swinging his legs as he observes the room, but he's not helping this time; no, no.

"You're just here to observe, then, not on the pull tonight?"

"I'll see if someone catches my eye. Might just amuse myself while you're busy."

"Sure you won't miss anything?"

"I can multi-task, darling." Jim gives Sebastian a pat on the arm.

“Course you can.” Sebastian glances around again. “I wouldn't guess half these guys were gay.”

"Some of them won't be. They'll just have decided going out to a gay bar is something different for the night. Most of them are, though."

“Yeah.” Sebastian leans back against the bar. “Sound like fun.”

"You know, Sebastian, there are straight boys in the world that realise gay isn't contagious."

“It's _not?_ ” Sebastian asks, with feigned shock.

"Surprising, isn't it?"

“Is a bit, yeah,” he says, downing that drink, because this is actually the opposite of fun. “Guess you should fuck off if I'm gonna get this over with.”

"Charming." Jim orders himself another drink, sliding down from his seat when it comes. "Have fuuuun~"

Sebastian gives him a lazy salute as he watches Jim sashay off in to the crowd to find somewhere he can sit and watch. He stays by the bar, leaning in to it, watching the crowd; seeing if anyone is going to make eye contact with him when he feels a presence to his left.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

There are fingers on Sebastian's side, and he turns to see a burly, bearded dude. Fuck. No. Nonono.

“You can take your hand off me before I break your fingers,” Sebastian says, with a tight smile. If he's going to do this, it's gonna have to be with someone who looks a bit more like a girl.

The man raises his hands defensively, backing off, and Jim smirks from where he's watching, finding Sebastian's discomfort amusing. After a bit, someone asks him if he wants to dance. Jim looks the guy over; a bit more muscular than he would usually go for, but he'll pass the time.

“Maybe you could buy me a drink and we could have a chat first?" Jim pats the seat beside him. This way, he can still watch Sebastian, and now he won't be alone in the corner. Good. Jim likes it when a plan comes together.

Seeing Jim with that guy sparks something within Sebastian; reminiscent of what he felt the last time they were in a club together. He swallows, trying to relax, forcing his gaze away from their corner. He glances from person to person, until he makes eye contact with someone across the bar.

He's a slighter guy; small, smiling, all dark eyes and slicked hair. Sebastian takes a deep breath and, against every fibre of his being, gives him _the look_. The guy smiles back. He nervously licks his lips, before making his way across, trying not to come across as too excited. He stops a bit away, trying to play cool, but really just lingering nervously. Then he quickly walks the last few steps to Sebastian's side.

“Hi,” he says, with a shy smile.

Yes. This guy is much more manageable. Sebastian can deal with this. He just has to try his hardest to pretend he's a girl. Which would be easier if he wasn't a guy. He watches him for a moment, making a show of letting his eyes drag up and down him, finishing with a slow lick of his lips.

“Hi. What's your name?”

“Terry,” the guy answers, shifting from foot to foot. He's a bit dazed. Had never expected the guy at the bar to notice him, let alone look at him like that. His cheeks flush, and he can feel his heart at the base of his throat. Inhaling slowly, he tells himself to calm down and act cool, glancing up through his lashes at Sebastian with a smile. “What's yours?”

Sebastian leans in towards his ear. His low voice carries well, but this allows him to get close and let Terry feel the heat of his breath.

“'Bastian.” Sebastian smiles at him, flirtatious. “You fancy buying me a drink, Terry?”

In the corner, Jim is having his thigh rubbed under the table as Zach whispers dirty things against his ear. He's a bit handsy, dear old Zach, but he seems happy enough to murmur and kiss at Jim's neck while he watches Sebastian and his guy. It does not escape Jim's notice that Terry bears a resemblance to him, is really a less attractive version of himself, and if looks could kill, the poor lad would be fizzling out of existence right now.

Terry doesn't feel the daggers that Jim is glaring at him. His tummy goes all flip-floppy at the hot rush of Sebastian's breath against his ear. He hasn't really done this before, but his friend pissed off to the bathroom half an hour ago and left him by himself, and he's feeling a little daring.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He touches Sebastian's wrist, smiling sweetly at him, and much as he tries to hide it, it's obvious how delighted he is. "What would you like?"

“Corona.” His smile tenses around the edges when Terry touches his wrist, but he manages to even it out quickly. Jim has desensitized him to all those casual touches. He thinks a bottle is a good choice, as it relates to dick things, right? He's seen girls do things on bottles with their mouths before, so it must work both ways.

Drink down. He only needs groping and (ugh) kissing, then he can ditch. Playing gay. Gonna nail it. Definitely. He feels like Terry might need a little extra encouragement, though, so Sebastian brushes his hand down along his side with a cheeky half smile, doing his best to look at Terry the way he would look at a girl.

Terry feels all tingly when Sebastian touches him, and he smiles in return. He's ordered himself a few shots along with Sebastian's beer, because he needs something to help him out here. Liquid courage. Still amazed this kind of guy is giving him attention. He lets his fingers brush against Sebastian's when he hands him his drink.

“There you go,” he says, with a sexy smile. Hopefully sexy. He's aiming for sexy.

Jim is barely even aware of Zach rubbing his palm against the front of jeans. His mouth is in a thin line of irritation because that guy looks like him, and that, that annoys him, for some reason. Sebastian doesn't even notice. He just sees a nervous, self-conscious guy who he can use and lose.

“Cheers, Terry.” Sebastian takes a drink, pointedly catching Terry's eyes as he does so, because girls have done this with him and he finds it hot. He keeps his hand at Terry's side, and if he doesn't bring it too high, he even feels a bit like a girl. “You here alone?”

Jim guides Zach's hand away from his lap, turning to press his mouth to Zach's ear.

“How about a dance, hm?”

He leads Zach to the floor, so he can watch Sebastian's exchange from closer. Zach is a very convenient dance partner, as he doesn't require much attention. He seems happy enough with his hands on Jim's ass, pulling him forward to grind against, mouthing at his ear. Jim watches Sebastian over his shoulder, occasionally replying to some of Zach's murmured nonsense.

“Well, I actually came out with my friend, Gavin, but he's pissed off on me.” Terry can feel Sebastian's hand on his side like it's burning, and he touches the back of it lightly. He only makes very fleeting eye contact with Sebastian before glancing down, chewing his lower lip. “He said he was only scooting to the loos, but I think he really went to get off with someone. So I guess I might as well be. Haha.”

That touch makes Sebastian want to pull away and start throwing punches, but he keeps the bet in mind. He has to be able to get one over on Jim for once. He has to win. What he really needs, is to tempt Terry into feeling him up, and that might be the hard part. Jim has them all over him in seconds. How does he do that?

“How could anyone bear to leave you alone, eh?” Sebastian gives Terry a sympathetic head tilt, poking out his bottom lip a bit. “Gorgeous little thing shouldn't be wandering around a place like this by himself.”

Terry ducks his head, blushing. He dares another glimpse through his lashes, and this time when he licks his lips, it's a hint more seductive than nervous.

“Good thing you fixed that then, isn't it?” he says, risking a step closer, almost touching Sebastian's thigh but not quite brave enough to make contact.

Thank God flirting is transferable. He keeps his smile in place as Terry steps closer, even though it makes panic flare in his chest. This is the objective; stick to it. He takes another long sip of his drink, because even all he downed himself before coming out, and even downed what Jim bought him, it doesn't feel like enough for this.

“Just glad you came over. Didn't think you'd give me the time of day,” Sebastian says. Yes. Boost his confidence.

Terry is distracted by the stroking. That is nice. When he looks at Sebastian, he is softer around the eyes, pupils a little blown. His voice is lower and softer when he speaks.

“Don't be silly, you're gorgeous.” He blushes again, a flush along the lines of his cheekbones as he sets his hand on Sebastian's wrist, trailing fingers over his pulse point. “I'm surprised you're alone, actually.”

Jim's got bored of Zach now, and he tries to detach himself, but Mr Grabby doesn't seem great on this idea.

"Hey, it's been lovely, but I needa go sit down, yeah? Maybe we can dance some more in a bit,” Jim says.

Zach's not letting go of him, whispering about how one more dance won't kill him and then he can sit on his lap if he wants. Jim wriggles back enough to smile up at him.

“If you don't take your hands off of me right now, I will break each and every one of your fingers.”

Zach is just laughing like Jim's anger is adorable, guiding him towards the edge of the room with strong hands. This is why Jim never picks the muscular ones. He's about five minutes away from breaking Zach's nose.

This isn't so bad, Sebastian thinks. Girls like this are endearing, if a little boring. The fact that he's a guy makes it a little weird, but also oddly interesting. The next touch to his wrist doesn't even make him tense up.

“Maybe because I can be a little picky,” Sebastian says, flashing that confident, sexy smile.

He glances up for a moment, so in to the game that he forgot about Jim. He finds the corner he had been sitting in empty, and his sharp eyes are quick to do a scan of the room. He spots him again, but doesn't think anything of it. At a glance, it just looks like Jim's playing the guy. His eyes linger for a moment, but his focus is quick back to Terry.

“Long as you think I'm gorgeous,” he says. “That's what matters, eh?”

Terry smiles at Sebastian's comments, just basking in all those nice words, swelling with praise. He keeps rubbing his thumb in circles around the bone of Sebastian's wrist, because that feels nice, and he can feel the beat of his pulse beneath his fingertips, which is nice too.

"Well, you most certainly are." Terry shrugs, playing it cool. "Do you come here often?"

Jim's been trying to play nice, but he's lost any patience he has, as well as sight of Sebastian, which makes him even angrier than being dragged across the floor. He puts a hand on Zach's arm and pushes at it, hard.

“Let go of me, _now_.”

Zach seems to take him seriously for the first time, but his hold doesn't loosen enough to let Jim escape. So Jim brings his knee up between them. Right into Zach's dick.

“I said: let me fucking _go_.”

He makes to slip away, but Zach catches his wrist.

Sebastian's finally starting to relax in to this bizarre situation. Maybe it's the alcohol, or the fact Terry isn't quite as _gaygaygay_ as Sebastian expected from this place. Could be any number of things, but his nerves are beginning to die down.

“This is my, uh, my first time-” By chance, Sebastian's eyes flick up again, in time to see the display between Jim and Zach.

Urgency flares up instantly. Bet forgotten, he abandons Terry, standing and pushing his way through the crowd as quickly as he can. Terry is left stunned, helplessly looking after Sebastian.

Meanwhile, Jim is trying to detach his wrist from Zach's hold. He knows, he _knows_ he's in no immediate danger, but he doesn't like people touching him when he doesn't initiate it. He's clawing at Zach's hand, sharp nails going to work as his chest tightens. Zach is trying to calm him down with a string of soothing words that are all bullshit.

It takes Sebastian a few more moments to get through to them, but as soon as he does, he has Zach pinned to the nearest wall by his throat, shocking him into letting go of Jim. He leans in so closer that it makes it look like they're just another couple; but his jaw is set, and his face shows he is 100% not taking any shit.

“He says he's done with you, he's done. So if you fancy keeping yourself in one piece tonight, I'd recommend you turn around and get the fuck out of here, because believe me, buddy, I would take great fucking pleasure in ripping your nuts off and shoving them down your fucking throat. How about it? Your choice.” Sebastian lingers for a moment, expression fierce, before he releases his grip and steps away, keeping himself placed between Zach and Jim.

Zach stumbles back, touching his throat. His eyes flick between Jim and Sebastian.

"Sorry mate. Didn't realise he had-" He gives a vague nod between them, and then he has enough good sense to slip away before Sebastian grabs him again.

Jim has moved himself in close to the wall, as far away from everyone else as possible, and he can still feel fingers on his skin. He rubs absently at his wrist as if he can get rid of the touch, eyes set on Sebastian, who shoves his hands in his pockets as he turns to Jim.

“Can't take you anywhere, can I?” He's joking, but doesn't have it in him to smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

Jim shakes his head.

“I didn't mean to interrupt.” He glances back towards the bar. “He's still there. You could finish it.”

Sebastian shrugs, his eyes flicking over Jim, trying to get a read on him. He doesn't want to keep him here if he's not as okay as he's letting on. Even if it means forfeiting the wager.

“Doesn't matter much, does it?”

“What's wrong?” Jim forces a smirk, straightening his back, smoothing out his posture. "You scared?"

But he's absently scratching at his wrist now, as if he can peel the skin away. Sebastian doesn't miss that movement. He can make this sacrifice, because he knows he could have followed through. He could have done it. That's what matters.

“Yeah. I'm scared.” There's no humour or challenge in it. He can give in. For Jim's sake.

“You're lying.” Jim frowns, eyes narrowing. He doesn't need pity. “I'm _fine_. I can look after myself.”

“I know you can. I know that.” Sebastian rubs the bridge of his nose. “I just don't want to do it, okay? You win.”

Jim folds his arms, glaring Sebastian down for a long, long moment.

“Fine.” He strides forward, bumping Sebastian with his shoulder as he passes. “Let's go then.”

Sebastian drags his hand down over his face, wanting this whole night to be done with. He can't even try and be nice to Jim, or this is the response he gets. If it's not Jim's idea, he's in the wrong. He's the bad guy. Fucking perfect.

He follows Jim towards the exit, but catches Terry's eye on the way out. Something clicks in him, because it's bad enough that Jim thinks he's pitying him, and that apparently intervening is a bad thing now, but even the win isn't doing anything for Jim. So fuck it. Fucking fuck it. He clenches his jaw, changing direction, heading back towards the bar; towards Terry. He's going to prove a fucking point.

He does so by pulling Terry against him and in to a kiss without warning.

Shitfuck. Shit. Fuck. Why isn't this horrible? This should be horrible. He'll probably find it gross and fucked up later, but right now, it's actually kind of okay. Kind of ogay. Fuck, alright. Eyes closed. Basically a girl. Tongues achieved. Bet more or less complete, right?

Jim's halfway towards the door before he realises Sebastian's not with him. He glances over his shoulder, catches sight of the kiss, and that just makes everything worse despite him telling Sebastian to go back. Teeth clenched, he storms on out of the door and just keeps walking. Let Sebastian prove his stupid point. Whatever. Jim's going to walk until he can't anymore and then he's going home to have a bath so hot it scalds him. Until he can't feel fingers on his skin any more. Until the cold ache has thawed from his chest.

Sebastian glances over Terry towards the door, just catching the back of Jim as he stalks off. He should go after him, but he doesn't. Jim is being a prick, and Sebastian doesn't get what he's done wrong, so he just keeps on with the kiss, feeling Terry up a little just so his hands have something to do.

Terry's so stunned he doesn't react, and for the first good handful of moments it's just Sebastian kissing him. Then he's sort of melting into the kiss, but it doesn't feel right to him. Well, it feels pretty damn good, but there's something off about it, and this feeling only heightens when Sebastian starts getting handsy. Ugh, he doesn't want to consider those kinds of things. He just wants to kiss the hot guy at the bar, but he does feel kind of guilty, so once there's a little lull in the kiss he breaks away.

"That wasn't your, uh-" Terry blushes, feeling awkward about even asking. "I mean, you're not just- because you two fell out?"

He doesn't want to get in the middle of something.

Sebastian curses, turning his head away and raking fingers back through his hair.

“Why'd you have to ask that?” Why did he? Why couldn't he just be a spineless little plaything, so Sebastian could get drunk here and do dumb, confusing things that he could regret tomorrow. Now he's just... ugh. “Sorry, Terry. I really need to go.”

He swallows, looking at Terry as if he's going to offer an explanation. Fuck it. No time. He rises once again, leaving Terry to sadly order himself another drink and wait for Gavin's return.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian tracks Jim down and they find a way to deal with their issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> Graphic sex, but if you've come this far you should be used to that by now.
> 
> Also, Charlie (Sebastian) has just started up her new range of fandom coffees, and she's running a giveaway over on her art blog. Wow! So if you'd like the chance to win Sebastian coffee, and a Mormor keyring, and some of her gorgeous art prints (including Zombie MorMor), then you should check that out and give it a reblog (it's only at 31 notes so you've got a decent chance):  
> http://crackedblackinc.tumblr.com/post/104504576762/cbi-coffee-start-up-giveaway-to-celebrate-the

Jim keeps walking.

There are crowds of people on the street, a fair deal of them drunk. He doesn't like that. They are loud, and there's too many of them, and it feels like everything is closing in. The streets get a little quieter when he moves out of Soho, and he just keeps going until he hits Trafalgar Square. There's a scatter of people hanging around the lions, but Jim walks past them, making his way up to the deserted steps of the museum, where he sits, giving himself a moment to steady his head.

He barely registers the sound of his phone ringing. He is a whole whirlwind of emotions and reactions, but anger is the safest one, so he clings to that. It is for a lot of different reasons, too, which makes it worse. When he sees Sebastian's name, he almost throws his phone down the steps, but that would be childish, and Jim never lets people see his childish side. Pettiness is a private character flaw.

Reluctantly, he answers, business voice on; “Hello.”

The dial tone has been going for longer than Sebastian likes, as he fights his way through drunken groups of people; all smiling and laughing, some sparring, some lust. His attention barely skims them on his way past. He keeps the phone pressed to his ear, willing Jim to answer, and when that clipped business tone greets him, he senses trouble.

“Jim, just tell me where you are, yeah? I'm looking for you.”

Part of him doesn't want to find Jim. He wants to forget about all this, but he knows that sorting it out and getting Jim safe back to his flat is the smartest course of action.

Jim sighs, and when he speaks again his voice is tired, annoyed.

"What do you want?" He's not in the mood for this. He just wants to sit in the rain until the mess in his head quiets down and he can go home without being a risk.

There is a beat of silence on the other side of the line. Good question. What does Sebastian want?

“I just want to talk with you. Make sure everything's okay.”

"Everything's fine, Sebastian. Don't worry your pretty little head about me."

“Just tell me where, or I'll keep looking for you, and calling, and eventually I'll just resort to standing outside your flat, so.”

“You're so annoying,” Jim says, looking down at the lions, glimmering with rain. “I'm outside the National Gallery.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.” Sebastian cuts down a side street, changing his course in that direction. “I'll be with you in five minutes, so just stay there, yeah?”

“Yeah yeah.” Jim clicks off his phone and slips it back in his pocket, pulling his jacket a little firmer around him against the cold.

When Sebastian does eventually arrive, he hesitates when Jim's in sight. He's not sure what's going to win out; his anger, or his confusion, but he'll just have to play by Jim's reaction. He sits next to him on the step, licking rain water from his lips as he glances back at the museum.

“This is one way to beat the queues, I guess.”

Jim continues to stare straight ahead, hands in his jacket pockets, knees pressed together. For a long moment, he does not acknowledge Sebastian, and when he does, it's only a side glance, water trickling down his forehead and catching on his lashes.

“Why are you here?”

“I don't know.” Sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “Couldn't leave it like it was.”

“It wasn't like anything.” Jim scuffs his toe along the step, looking off towards the fourth plinth.

“You mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“It seemed like it.”

“Yeah, well.”

"What'd I do?"

"Nothing."

"So you got snippy with me and stormed out for no reason?"

"Was leaving you to it."

"Was just doing it to prove a point, wasn't I?"

"Well done. You faced your fear of the gays."

Sebastian swallows, looking away.

“You told me to finish it,” he says.

"And you did. Congratulations."

“Can you just tell me what I did wrong?" Sebastian sighs, exasperated.

"Nothing."

"Well then, I don't fucking get it, Jim. I pull a guy off you, and I apparently fucked up because you can handle yourself. I ask if you wanna leave, and I fucked up again because I'm a chicken or something. I finish the bet, and you fuck off here and act like I'm a dickhead. I can't fucking win with you."

Jim glances briefly at Sebastian, before looking down at the fountain. He doesn't offer an answer. He doesn't discuss matters like this; things that involve emotion. If he just ignores Sebastian, they won't have this conversation. Sebastian shakes his head at Jim's silence, dragging a hand across his face to wipe the rain away. After a moment he chuckles humourlessly.

"That guy, Terry or whatever, he thought you were my... I don't know, my boyfriend or something. Thought he was getting in the middle of something."

Jim's eyes narrow fractionally at the mention of a name. It was bad enough when he was just a person, just nameless. He blinks water from his lashes. He's glad to have avoided any weird emotional moments, though.

"Not an uncommon opinion, it seems,” he says.

“Apparently not."

"Could be worse. You could be stuck with an ugly boyfriend."

“You think he was ugly?"

It is an effort for Jim not to frown.

"I meant I'm really hot so at least people assume you have an attractive boyfriend."

“Ah, right." Sebastian nods. "So, you didn't think he was ugly, just not as hot as you?"

"He was alright. Not a woeful choice."

"There was something about him, right? He wasn't totally, eh, unattractive."

Yeah, he looked like a cheap rip off version of me.

“Right.” Jim sniffs, rubbing water from his nose with his wrist. “Not a hopeless case.”

“None of this really went how it should have, eh?” Sebastian turns to look at Jim.

“That's life,” Jim says, shrugging.

“Didn't really win the bet anyway.”

“You did kiss him.” Jim rolls his head towards Sebastian.

“No groping, though. Got the drink, got the kiss, but I weren't felt up. Didn't get the hat trick, eh?”

“Two out of three ain't bad.”

"Still not a win though, is it?"

Jim shifts so he's angled towards Sebastian, eyes flicking over his face, trying to get a read. He's chewing on his lip, glancing up at Jim, then back down at his hands. He doesn't know what to say, so he stays quiet. Jim frowns. He's not sure what Sebastian is gaining from this. He could have lied about the bet. Jim wasn't there to know. He looks back at the fountain, eyes narrowed. He's annoyed he can't figure it out, because he can always read people so easily.

“Doesn't matter much anyway.”

“Nah.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I guess it doesn't.”

“My ass is soaking.” Jim pushes himself to his feet, and Sebastian snorts, watching as he brushes down his jeans.

“Want me to walk you home?”

"If you want." Jim pulls the zip of his jacket up before glancing down at Sebastian, who nods, clapping his hands on his knees before he stands. He leads the way down the steps.

"Could do with the walk, anyway."

Jim descends the steps swiftly, catching up with Sebastian before falling into step beside him. He could make an old man joke, but he doesn't, he just walks quietly at Sebastian's side. Sebastian's hands find their way into his pockets, and he sighs softly, staying quiet until they're back walking on the streets.

“We're alright, yeah?”

“Yes,” Jim says, after a brief pause. He doesn't have friends, so all these kinds of situations are new ground for him. He's not entirely sure how to approach them. He leaves it at that because he doesn't feel there's anything else to say.

"We should probably stop going to clubs together."

Jim gives an amused exhale.

"Probably."

Sebastian nods, walking along quietly a bit, head still a bit fuzzy from drinking. Everything that happened before feels miles away, and he's just confused. He's thinking about it all, actually letting himself acknowledge the effect Jim has on him. The need to protect him, the willingness to ditch everything for him. What happened in the club the first time; the jealously and the lust. What happened this time; that he couldn't stop thinking about Jim while he was with Terry, that Terry actually looked a bit like... fuck. The resemblance suddenly dawns on Sebastian. He clenches his jaw, remaining quiet as he comes to terms with that. Could have picked any guy and he automatically went for the one that looked like Jim.

Jim's hit the stage now where the cold and wet are getting to him, and he's just feeling quite miserable. If it were any other time he'd probably start whining right about now. Nothing has gone the way he wanted tonight, and that's made him a bit sour. He doesn't like it when things don't go his way. He's striding a little too hard through some of the puddles without really realising, splashing water over his jeans, but at least the streets are quieter, most people having ducked in out of the rain.

They take the tube in silence, and their car is empty save for one woman on her own at the far end. It's not much warmer, and it's all Jim can do not to shiver. He watches their reflection in the window opposite them as they whizz through tunnels, him and Sebastian side by side. They get off at the station closest to Jim's house, but it's still another twenty minutes of walking. Jim walks quickly, hoping movement will give him warmth. Sebastian's strides lengthen to keep up, and he's been trapped in his head for the whole journey.

“Do you know?” he eventually forces out.

“What?” Jim says, snappier than he intended, but he has _water_ in his _shoes_ , and his toes are cold, and everything sucks.

Sebastian's jaw clenches, and he is quiet for another bit, refusing to look at Jim.

“All the shit you've been making me think. The way you've gotten into my fucking head.”

“Probably, yes.” Jim doesn't see why they have to discuss this in the rain, when he's rapidly losing the feeling in his toes. “I know most things.”

“So it's just a bit of a laugh for you, then?”

“I don't control what you think.” Jim sniffs.

“Not for lack of trying.”

“For fucks sake, Sebastian, do we really have to have this conversation right now? I am losing the feeling in my feet, and I am really not in the mood to deal with your sexuality crisis, or whatever this is.” Jim drags a hand back through his wet hair.

“You want a cab?”

“No.” Jim's too stubborn to give into that now, after they've come this far.

“What do you want, then? A fucking piggyback?”

Pause.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Will it stop you whining?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

“I'm not whining,” Jim says, sounding rather sulky.

Sebastian sighs, long and tortured. He stops walking, turning his back to Jim.

“Just fucking get on.”

Jim steps forward slowly, pretending not to be too eager. He loops his arms loosely around Sebastian's neck. With a little hop, he's up. He's never been given a piggyback ride before, so even though he's playing it cool, there's a giddy streak of excitement in him. Sebastian hooks his arms under Jim's legs, leaning forward a bit. He thanks the lord Jim is so small and light, because once they walk for a bit, he knows he's only going to feel heavier.

“That better, princess?”

Jim sniffs.

“Yes,” he says curtly, and he's smiling, barely enough to be noticeable, but it's fine, because Sebastian can't see him. “And we already discussed this. I'm the king.”

“How could I forget, _your majesty_.”

It's Sebastian's turn to be a grumpy git, but he doesn't often take a break from that, so Jim pays no mind as they trundle on through the wet and rain. He's a bit less miserable, but he's still pretty cold and wet, so he's happy when they start to get close to his street. Towels and dry clothes, yes, yes.

“You may as well come in and dry off, otherwise I'll not see you for another month,” he says as he slides down from Sebastian's back.

“Told you I wasn't going to do that any more, didn't I?”

“Then you've got no excuse not to come in.”

Jim walks ahead, expecting Sebastian to follow. He kicks his wet shoes off by the door and walks straight on into the flat. He comes back a minute later, throwing some towels at Sebastian.

“I'm having a quick shower. You know where everything's at.”

Sebastian shuts the front door, removing his boots and hovering for a moment. He catches the towels that are thrown to him, nodding in response to Jim. His jacket is stripped off and hung by the door, then his shirt follows, and he wrings it out in the kitchen sink while he boils the kettle. He's not even boiling it for himself, just by habit. He gets himself a glass of water instead; downing a pint, and then another, before sipping on the third as he puts his shirt over the radiator to dry. He lays one of the towels out over his seat on the couch so he won't get it wet.

Jim has a quick shower, just to warm himself up more than anything else. When he reappears he's in the good old pair of PJ bottoms. He lifts the blanket from the couch and curls it round his shoulders before he goes to make tea, smiling when he finds the kettle already boiled. He settles down on the couch with his cup, all warm and dry, feeling much better now.

“Feelin' better?” Sebastian asks.

“Mhmmm.”

Jim emits a pleased little hum as he sips his tea. He's happy enough to quietly drink half of it, before sitting up straighter and turning his attention to Sebastian, who is staring off at the wall. He's keeping to himself, not sure how he feels about Jim, because he's been a right dick tonight, and Sebastian doesn't exactly want to be here right now.

“Alright then, sourface,” Jim says. “What's up?”

Sebastian turns to look at him slowly.

“Oh, nothing. I'm hunky-fucking-dory, I am.”

Jim raises an eyebrow, and Sebastian folds his arms, leaning back into the couch.

“Oh, stop huffing. That's not getting us anywhere.” Jim shifts around, so he can sit cross legged, facing Sebastian.”

“I'm not huffing. Just staying shut up. Wouldn't want you to have to deal with my whining.”

Jim sighs heavily, glaring at Sebastian.

“What?” says Sebastian.

“Why don't you tell me?”

“Tried that. Wasn't too fun.”

"So you're thinking things. Wow. Great to know that little brain of yours functions."

"Are you actually picking now to play dumb? You know exactly what I was talking about."

Jim sits his tea down, because that could end up going flying if this get any more heated, and scalding Sebastian isn't going to fix things. He clenches his jaw, loosens it again, wets his lips.

"What were you expecting to happen? I'd kiss you in the rain and we'd live happily ever after?"

"I never said I was going to act on any of the weird, twisted bullshit flying around in my head. There's no point in pretending it's not there though, is there? Especially when you seem to be able to figure out what I'm thinking before I even do."

"I don't see why you're bringing it up, then. You don't want to talk about it. You don't want to act on it. What is this achieving?"

Sebastian closes his eyes, and it is clear that he's pretty fucking frustrated. He flicks a hand through his hair in an attempt to alleviate the aggravation. Jim is quite possibly the worst person in the world to talk to about this shit.

“I don't fucking know. I don't know. But it works out great for you, don't it? You get the most loyal little guard dog in the world traipsing after you, so it doesn't matter.”

"Don't act like you're getting nothing in return. I'm giving you what you want; what no one else can give you. Even the army couldn't satisfy you, but I'm offering you the perfect lifestyle. You could be wasting away your life delivering letters, but I'm making you something more."

Sebastian leans forward, face pressed in to his hands and elbows resting on his knees. He's just trying to breathe. Just trying to calm down and be in control. Jim's right. That's what's important here; the work, the lifestyle. That's what matters. The feelings and thoughts, the idea of taking his aggression out on Jim in a way other than with his fists– it's all sub-plot to that.

The curve of his back rises and falls as his breathing slows. He almost asks Jim to just stop screwing with his head, but he doesn't, because he knows he'll just start seeking it once it's gone. This started out as him just trying to get Jim to want him, but he's pushed it so far that the tables have turned, and now he's in unknown territory. He just has to roll with it, like he always does.

Without turning to look at Jim, he nods into his hands.

Jim shifts a little closer, slowly reaching out, as one might approach a wild animal. He strokes his fingers through Sebastian's hair with a soft, soothing noise.

"You're all confused, aren't you, darlin'? You have all these ideas of what you have to be. You always have. Checkbox lists. To be the perfect son, the perfect soldier, the perfect man, but you've never quite managed to live up to any of them. Because you limit yourself. You think you have to be one way, and you deny yourself a world of possibilities. You're not part of that any more. You're outside of it. We're outside of it, and you don't have to fit into an ideal any more, 'Bastian."

Sebastian can feel a prickle at the back of his eyes, and his throat is burning, but he won't let _that_ go any further. He's glad his face is obscured, because those words come so different and unexpected, and fucking spot on. He can barely even realise it until they're spoken aloud, but they slot into place with a frightening accuracy. He doesn't miss the touch, but he doesn't pull away, lets it happen, and he feels like a boy. When Jim's finished, he pulls away from his hands, just enough to see Jim's face, staring at him with equal parts disbelief and defeat.

He can't say anything. He wouldn't know what to say. He just looks at Jim, feeling so tiny and exposed in a way he didn't think anyone would ever see.

Jim can sense he has to tread carefully here, that Sebastian is in a delicate place and if he makes the wrong choice of words he's going to shatter that. He needs Sebastian. There are other snipers in the world, there are other killers for hire, but he trusts Sebastian. He knows this is the one that is going to fit best with him, because Sebastian hasn't bored him yet. Even when they're just watching crap TV, Jim can bear his presence, and that's something that never happens.

No. Personal feelings aside, Sebastian is a valuable asset to his empire, and Jim isn't willing to lose that. He trails his fingers lightly along the back of Sebastian's neck.

"They never saw you for what you really are, any of them. Not the way I do. They wouldn't have approved, but I want you to realise your full potential. This is what you were made for."

That's it, isn't it? What Sebastian has been searching for all his life, what he does anything to achieve; approval. It's ridiculous, and it's sad, but it's true. Part of him knows it can't be coincidence that Jim's saying all the right things, but he's not going to turn away, he's not going to push him back. The delicate little touches that he's been horribly desensitized to, and the carefully crafted words that are slipping right through the cracks of him; they're everything he's ever wanted and needed, and he tries his best to keep his expression neutral, because he doesn't need to seem any more pathetic than he already feels. When he speaks, eventually, the first syllable cracks, but the rest fall into place.

"I'm not going to let you down. I'm yours."

"Yes." Jim's voice is soft, bordering affectionate, but there's a definite edge of possessiveness there. His hand slides from the back of Sebastian's neck to the side, fingertips ghosting along the line of his jaw. "You are."

A little breath escapes his lips; tiny, insignificant, barely noticeable. He is Jim's, and he shouldn't like being owned, but doing him proud, being worth something and able to do something; that seems to be all that really matters. His eyes glance down to that hand ghosting along his jaw, then slip to Jim's lips for just a fraction of a second, before they are locked back on those big, dark eyes.

“All yours.” He's calm, anger simmered out, just entirely focused on Jim now.

"All mine." Jim strokes his thumb along the line of Sebastian's cheekbone, and he knows that this would never have been allowed before, that the very fact Sebastian is letting him touch him like this is just another sign of the power Jim has over him. He's been watching the movement of his thumb, but his eyes flick up, lock on Sebastian's, and his smile widens a little, makes his eyes crinkle. "My good boy."

Sebastian's eyes slide shut with a tiny snort, and he shakes his head, but not enough to chase away Jim's hand.

“You prick.”

“Yeah, weeeeeell.” Jim grins, finally letting his hand drop. “I think you're well aware of that by now, and yet here you are. Stuck with me.”

“Oh _noo_.” Sebastian's eyes open a crack, squinting, and he doesn't let his disappointment at the loss of that hand show; still smiling.

"I know. Terrible, isn't it?" Jim chews his lower lip, eyes wide and dark.

“Guess there's no point fighting it. Too late now."

"Far, far too late."

"My only choice is to give in and accept it, then?"

"You've already accepted it."

"Fair point."

Jim rests his head against the back of the couch, watching Sebastian with amusement. His. All his. Not even trying to fight it any more.

"You could be a little less smug about all this,” says Sebastian.

"Could do." Pause. "But I'm not going to."

"Course not.”

Sebastian is smiling fondly as he watches Jim, barely even aware of it. Jim's eyes skim downwards, and he shifts a little closer, touching Sebastian's chest.

“How'd you get this one?”

“That's not even that impressive, actually.” Sebastian smirks, looking down. “My friend shot me up close with his BB gun when we were little. Not much of a friend, in retrospect.”

Jim laughs, pressing his finger over the scar before lifting it.

"Which one is the most impressive, then?"

Sebastian shrugs, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. He guides Jim's hand towards his hip, where there's a small mess of scar tissue from a real bullet wound.

“Maybe this one.”

Jim shifts up, leaning on his elbow against the back of the couch so he can see better. He circles the scar with his finger before stroking over it.

"Another friend?"

"Not quite.” Sebastian wets his lips, watching Jim's fingers play over his skin. "It was in Iraq. If we were lucky there'd be a foot team with us to clear rooms. But as it was, there was just a sniper team with m100s. They're, eh, semi automatics. Not the same accuracy as other rifles, but they shoot more than seven rounds at a time. So we were clearing a potential sniper hide by ourselves, and there was an enemy group in the room I was checking. Before I was backed up, there was a scuffle, and I got hit by a stray bullet before we took them all out. This is it."

"Poor baby." Jim kisses his fingertips and brushes them over the scar. Sebastian smiles.

“Missed everything major. I was lucky. Fucked the mission, though. Gave up our positions and we had to sacrifice the hide.

Jim strokes the scar one last time before he moves his fingers across Sebastian's stomach, tracing other scars along the way.

"Look at all these. So many stories."

"Better than any tattoo."

"Maybe I should add some."

Jim scratches his nails along Sebastian's skin, and Sebastian's shoulders tense in response. His back arches ever so slightly, and he watches Jim with just a hint of surprise.

"You're just hell bent on leaving your mark on me, aren't you?"

"Oh yes. You're just getting that now?" Jim scratches out his initials between Sebastian's ribs, too light to leave a mark. Sebastian's breathing goes a little funny in response to the sensation.

“Tattoo might be easier.”

"Borrrr-ring. If I were going to mark you, I'd want to do it myself."

"Why?"

"The personal touch."

Sebastian watches Jim for a few moments, and a smile touches his lips.

“Tell me... were you jealous of Terry?”

“No,” Jim says, far too quickly. “Why would I be jealous? I suggested it.”

“You so were.” Sebastian smirks. “Awh, that's so sweet.”

Jim curls his fingers, and this time he's properly using his nails, dragging them hard and fast from Sebastian's chest to his belly button. Sebastian hisses, properly arching up this time, but he won't drop it.

“Being a little defensive, there.”

“And you're being a little ridiculous.”

Jim's nails leave white lines rising on Sebastian's skin, and Sebastian traces his fingers over them, lips pursing.

“You want to own me, but you weren't jealous of some other guy feeling me up in a bar? Who's going to believe that?”

"Cute as his little wrist petting was, I don't quite think that counts as feeling you up, sweetheart."

"You know what I mean."

Jim looks up at Sebastian, the corner of his mouth curling.

"I would break every one of his pretty fingers, but I don't need to be jealous, because it's always me you'll come crawling back to."

"It's shit like that that'll make me want to go find someone else to scratch me up,” Sebastian says. Jim rolls his eyes, sitting back into his own space again. Sebastian bites his lower lip. “You're not entirely wrong, though. Which is fucking disgusting in itself.”

"I know I'm not wrong, I was just letting you have your little moment where you try and convince yourself. You need to get over that."

Sebastian sighs, flopping back, over-dramatic.

“You might as well just get a knife and carve me up right now, if that's the case,” he says.

Jim licks his lips, eyes following the curve of Sebastian's throat.

"Don't tempt me."

Sebastian looks across at Jim, their eyes meeting, before he shrugs.

“Do it, then. You plan on it eventually, don't you? Might as well get it fucking over with. Think I might have an ass cheek that isn't completely scarred with shrapnel, if you want the space.”

Jim genuinely considers this before shaking his head.

"No." He pulls one knee up so he can rest his chin on it. "You don't just get my mark. Not that easily."

"Well, don't expect me to chase it."

"That could save your life someday."

“How d'ye figure that?"

"There will come a day when people won't dare to touch anything that belongs to me for fear of the consequences."

"Ah yes, maybe you should do it on the pad of my foot, then. It'd be like Andy from Toy Story. Howdy partner, I'm Jim's toy." Jim gives Sebastian a solid kick for that, and Sebastian smirks. “I hope that day comes, but I'd rather not get myself stuck in a position where your initials have to save my life.”

"You keep that attitude up and I'll be the one that kills you."

"I might prefer that."

"We'll see."

“Looks like I've already earned my stripes." Sebastian smiles, stroking over Jim's claw marks.

"Pft. I didn't even draw blood."

"You might need sharper nails for that."

"I can draw blood."

"Go ahead."

"What, you're just encouraging me to scratch you up now?"

"Sounds like it."

"That's a bit gay, isn't it?"

"I think I've crossed that line."

"You're adapting surprisingly well."

"Still alcohol in my system. And it's late. I'll have a lovely gay crisis panic tomorrow morning, I'm sure."

"Does that mean I'm taking advantage of you right now?"

"In a sense."

"Goody."

"That another one of your little kinks, then?"

"No."

"So, you finally have your postal wet dream on your couch, half naked, pretty much submitting to you, and you're just going to leave him be? That's something."

"You mustn't pay very much attention." Jim raises an eyebrow, smiling across at Sebastian.

"Maybe I'm just a little disappointed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"And why is that?"

Sebastian gives a coy little shrug, smirk still in place. Jim tilts his head to the side, readjusting his blanket cloak.

"You think you'll scare me off?" Sebastian asks.

"No."

"Then, what?"

"What do you mean, what?"

"Nevermind."

"Don't go all tight-lipped on me now." Jim leans forward.

“It really doesn't matter."

"Tell me."

Sebastian smiles for another moment, keeping cool, shrugging.

"You have to know that right now, all things considered, I probably wouldn't push you away if you tried something. I'm just wondering why you haven't, really."

"Again, you mustn't pay very much attention." Jim springs himself forward, shifting the leg beneath him so he can kneel on it. He moves his mouth near Sebastian's and drops his voice. "Haven't you noticed that they always come to me?"

Sebastian tenses for a fraction of a second, but it's mostly from the sudden movement.

“Not this time.”

"Evidently." Jim moves back fractionally, smiles, then drops back into his seat. Sebastian looks at him with fresh interest.

“So you're so stubborn, and so self-assured, that you have to always, always be the one who's approached first?"

"Ah, but I make the first move when I pick them. Then it's up to them if they choose to respond before I move on to someone else."

"You going to move on to another postman?"

"Tony's still available."

"Did I miss my chance, then?"

"Might have." Jim smiles.

“How do I tell?" Sebastian mirrors his smile.

"What? Player Sebastian Moran can't read signals any more?"

"Not as easy with men."

"Out of practice?"

“Apparently."

Jim drops his eyes very pointedly to Sebastian's lips, very slowly raises them again, then repeats this.

"Is that a hint or are you just giving a demonstration?"

"That's up to you to work out,” Jim says.

Sebastian breathes out slowly. He wets his lips, sitting up and turning his body towards Jim better. He leans in, just to gauge Jim's reaction, and to check his own damn reaction to the proximity and the idea of what he's about to do. Jim just watches, remaining still. He meets those dark eyes for a moment, before he leans in further and kisses him.

Even when he kisses him, Jim is still for the first few seconds, letting Sebastian press into it before he's pressing back, fingers automatically going for Sebastian's hair and tightening, holding him in place. Sebastian doesn't know exactly how to respond to this reaction. He just knows it feels good in a way he didn't expect. This new territory is a sort of taboo for him, and with Jim it is already far different from Terry or a few random guys in orgies.

Sebastian starts to explore, running his tongue along Jim's bottom lip as he tilts his head. One hand curls around Jim's neck, and the other moves to hold his side. Jim's tongue slides out to meet Sebastian's. He's going gentle on Sebastian until he gets his bearings, not fighting to dominate in the way he usually would, behaving and keeping his teeth to himself for now. He traces the line of Sebastian's jaw with his free hand, feeling the shift of muscle and bone beneath skin.

Sebastian's finding a rhythm to the kiss, tongues meeting on every lip parting; standard. It's odd, different; Jim's firmer than a woman, there's a slight roughness to his cheeks, and his lips are less plush. Somehow, even his tongue seems rougher, but Sebastian's seen it cut, so that isn't surprising. The hand at Jim's side moves to skin, and Sebastian runs his thumb along the recently healed scar there. Little by little, the hand on Jim's neck is curving around, thumb stroking down the line of his throat when he remembers to move it while focusing on so many other motions. He's considering the fact that Jim enjoys pressure there, considerably more pressure, but still. He doesn't press just yet, because there's still something about this kiss and this experience which is educational, almost like Jim's holding his hand to cross the street. In waves he remembers what he's doing, getting an odd rush that makes his heartbeat quicken.

Jim's breath almost catches when Sebastian strokes down along his throat, and he's hit by a wave of anticipation that is so strong it actually makes his head spin. That's new. He lets Sebastian set the pace, moving his hand from Sebastian's jaw to his chest, tracing the marks of his own nails, and Sebastian's breathing comes a little shallow. There's a slightly embarrassing moment when his hand slips up Jim's chest and he remembers that he doesn't have breasts. Oh, damn, shit, what now? He thumbs at his nipple, before sliding that hand back down. Jim chuckles against his lips, sensing the mistake, and gradually he takes more control again, scratching lightly at Sebastian's scalp while simultaneously nipping at his lower lip.

That nipping and scratching eggs him to work harder, and he doesn't plan on this going too far, not really, but he's still mouthing his way down Jim's jawline, licking and kissing along his neck, where his thumb is pressing more firmly. Jim rolls his head back, baring his throat, fingers tightening in Sebastian's hair; just holding. At first his breathing is just getting a little heavier as Sebastian mouths at his neck, the occasional sharp inhale through his teeth, but Jim is a noisy lover, so those noises will eventually shift to little breathy moans and the occasional whimper.

Sebastian's fucking pleased as punch, because noisy or not, he's still the one prompting those sounds from Jim. That makes him far too happy; good dog pleasing his master. That'll be a horrible thought once he lets himself process it, but for now he's distracted by pulling as much noise from Jim as he can. He's glad this is transferable. He's had a lot of practice here, knows he's good at it. His thumb at Jim's throat will stroke back up again, firm, before his hand curves around his neck. He hates the idea of anyone doing this to Jim, whether Jim enjoys it or not, but at least when he's doing it, he's in control. He knows he won't hurt Jim, he's safe, but he also knows that he only wants to tease him with it now; so it's only light, just the impression.

Jim is squirming in his seat, just basking in his own pleasure for a while, not considering Sebastian much. Then the thumb is stroking over his throat again and his breathing gets a little hitch to it, pulse picking up, and there's a warm flush of arousal from his cheeks all the way to his stomach. He swallows, feels his throat move beneath Sebastian's thumb, and somewhere along Sebastian's journey back to his mouth, Jim manages to slip his arms around him. Their chests are flush together now, and Jim waits for their lips to meet before he drags his nails down Sebastian's back.

Sebastian's mouth opens with Jim's in a silent moan that catches in his throat. He's relaxing into this now, though he senses Jim is going to keep him on his toes, so he doesn't let himself settle too much. He could probably get off on Jim's reactions alone; something so different from the usual _ohhs_ and _ahhs_ he gets from girls (even if some of them sound similar). It could be that he knows Jim's noises are genuine.

Sebastian moves Jim onto his lap to straddle him, his hand returning to his throat, much firmer this time. He is strong enough to hoist Jim around as he wishes, and that shouldn't be attractive, with anyone else it would put Jim on guard, but Sebastian is different. Jim loses his blanket cape in the move, but he doesn't care. Sebastian is doing enough to keep him warm, anyway. His kiss is becoming much more confident and daring, and he's finally giving Jim's throat the kind of pressure he's been craving, making it difficult to breathe, and everything has that sharp edge to it again. The movement of his mouth becomes a bit more lazy the longer he goes without breathing, but Sebastian is using that hand around his throat to keep check of his heart rate. He's ready to soften his grip if it gets too erratic, or worse, if it slows considerably, but he's pleased by the reaction.

As he kisses Jim deeper, he introduces teeth and a few moves he's picked up over his years of being a slut. His other hand is starting to move along Jim's torso, getting used to the landscape, but he comes to rest by firmly sliding his hand up Jim's thigh. Not getting too close; not sure if he's ready to touch a dick quite yet. He lets up on the pressure on Jim's throat as he bites his lip.

Jim's just gasping against Sebastian's mouth after that, catching his breath again. He takes the first sign of teeth as permission to let loose, and suddenly the hands in Sebastian's hair are gripping tight, angling his head upwards so Jim can claim his mouth, biting and licking and fighting back against Sebastian. He's aware of every movement of Sebastian's hands on his skin, keeping track of them, but not too concerned, still able to note the exploratory way they're moving; hesitant, still learning. When they pause, he takes his turn to explore, pulling Sebastian's head further back and mouthing down his neck. He licks and sucks until his lips are at the curve where shoulder meets neck, then Jim's biting down without warning, hard enough to leave imprints of his teeth.

The sudden onslaught of aggression and dominance is overwhelming at first, but once Sebastian starts to adapt, it's fucking welcome. He's fighting back, spurts of aggression he could rarely get away with on a fragile little girl. His hands are finding Jim's waist, fingertips digging into the skin, and his grip only tightens with a hiss when Jim bites him, his back arching automatically, pressing up and against Jim. Each finger digging into him is a point of pain, but Jim cherishes them, hopes for bruises he can press down on later to rekindle a faint ghost of the sensation. He moans, muffled against skin, as Sebastian arches, his body moving of it's own accord back against him, automatic reaction. He doesn't let up, sucking around the bite before releasing. Little insincere apology by licking his tongue over the mark, then he's repeating it around Sebastian's collarbone, only this time he has something solid to grind his teeth against, and he's going to have painted him all pretty by the time he's done.

What little nails Sebastian has are dragged down Jim's back in response. The thing is, Jim is far stronger than he seems, but Sebastian could still overpower him if he wanted. It's such a rare occasion when someone can actually dominate him, and not in a fake way, but in a really, truly, honestly, put the fear in him and make him take a step back way. He's enjoying it; not fighting Jim for the upper hand with all his strength, just enough to make it interesting, and Jim meets his aggression, counters it and encourages more.

Sebastian's losing the ability to think or do anything other than feel the sensation Jim's bringing him. Eventually his hands just clamp back at his hip bones, digging in as a reaction to the simultaneous pain and pleasure; back arching and head rolling slightly. His whole body just reacting of it's own accord. His cock is throbbing between his legs, and Jim's small movements against him aren't giving him anywhere near the friction he needs. He knows what's happening; knows Jim is marking him, but he can't find it in himself to care. He's just wondering if he's allowed to do this to the same extent. He's sure he's at least “accidentally” left a few marks on his neck already, and surely if he tries, Jim will soon let him know if he has permission.

Jim moves to the other side, repeating his process, although he varies the force of his bites, working more with his lips and tongue. He sits back to examine his work, lips damp and parted, pupils blown. Little nod of approval at the marks already blossoming across Sebastian's neck. Yes. Lovely. Stroking his fingers along them momentarily, admiring the contrast to the paleness of his own skin. Then his eyes flick up to meet Sebastian's, check how he's doing, and Jim gives him a little smirk, looking rather debauched.

Sebastian looks and feels like a whore when Jim's done with him. His eyes, normally pale gunmetal grey, seem almost black with lust, hooded, and he's panting against the couch with his chest raised. His lips are parted, and he feels utterly lost. He shakes his head at Jim like he's taken him apart and left him there, but there's a glimmer of amusement and excitement in his eyes. Jim quite likes the sight of Sebastian like this. It's much nicer than just hearing him through a stall. He rests his hand on Sebastian's chest, feels the beat of his heart beneath his palm, feels how his chest rises and falls with each breath. Then Jim ducks down again, but this time he only brushes his lips along Sebastian's feather light, teasing.

Sebastian chases after the taste, tipping his head up and trying to press his lips against Jim's with more force and presence. Jim smiles, pleased with this reaction. Before Sebastian would have been tensing if he came within inches of him, but now he's actively trying to get more. Jim complies, cupping Sebastian's jaw, nails biting into skin, and pressing in to meet his lips again. Sebastian hums slightly in response, finding Jim more and more addictive in ways he couldn't have imagined. He's doing exactly what Jim said; forgetting who he is supposed to be and doing what he wants; enjoying the weight of Jim on him, his scent and taste, the sounds he makes, in completely selfish ways, completely unapologetic.

One hand slips from Jim's thigh, slightly hesitant to slide in around the nape of Jim's neck, fingers stroking through the hair there. Jim strokes the side of Sebastian's throat, letting his nail drag every so often. He mixes up his kissing, going from sharp little nips to slow, languid movements of lips and tongue, never letting Sebastian get too used to one particular method. He tightens fingers in Sebastian's hair and pulls him into a rougher kiss, starting a subtle little rocking of his hips down against Sebastian's, nothing too forceful, just a light bit of friction. He hums against Sebastian's lips, soft, pleased sounds.

Sebastian is simultaneously comfortable and uncomfortable. Comfortable in the sense that he likes it here, likes this, even likes Jim taking complete control. Uncomfortable in that Jim having control means things changing at random intervals, but that isn't a bad thing. It's very much a reflection of Jim, unpredictable, and it keeps Sebastian alert. While there's a sense of familiarity to all this, a sense of trust and comfort, it's also new and exciting. The sharpness of that sudden rough kiss distracts him enough that he doesn't even notice Jim's subtle hip movements until they're making a positive impact on him. Sebastian doesn't want to be considered out of his depth, or only willing to go so far. He doesn't want to pussy out (so to speak), and while he could freak out, he has to admit that this feels good. So what he does instead is tilt his hips forward, gripping more firmly at Jim's hair. His other hand moves to Jim's lower back, encouraging the movements.

Jim's pleased Sebastian's playing along, but he's running more on physical sensation now than planning, trusting how his body feels and acting accordingly. He gives a few little moans every now and then to let Sebastian know he approves of the rhythm they've got going on, yes, and it's been a while since he's had such a build up with someone. His last couple of hook ups have been wham, bam, thank you ma'ams, so this makes a change. A pleasant change.

Sebastian's almost finding it hard to believe that he has Jim Moriarty on top of him, grinding and kissing him. He's realising that the angle gives him a distinct advantage when it comes to playing with Jim's neck, so he moves from the kiss to his jaw, and sucks and nips down his throat to the base of his neck. His mouth comes lower, and he flicks his tongue over Jim's nipples, playing with them for a while before he moves back up to focus on Jim's neck again, daring to play rougher this time, paying attention for any reprimand should he take it too far.

For now, Jim just makes all kinds of delicious noises; whimpers and moans, scraping at Sebastian's chest, shoulders, scalp all the while. He even gasps Sebastian's name when he hits a particularly good spot, a breathy “Bastian”, with nails biting into his shoulders and Jim grinding down against him. Jesus Christ, if they could mass produce Jim as a sex toy, someone would stand to make a fortune. It all eggs Sebastian on to pull every trick he's got out of the bag, and he's actually listening to Jim (unlike his other partners, with which he's usually a selfish lover), trying to figure out how to make him lose control, send him into fits. He knows the quick route there would be sucking his dick, but he's still not sure he can even touch it with confidence yet, so he just leaves a string of pretty bruises along Jim's neck, licking up his throat and sucking hard beneath his Adam's apple. Every moan is just making him harder, and his cock throbs when Jim utters his name.

Jim's noises are getting exceedingly more needy, and he can't say he doesn't approve of Sebastian's efforts. This is exactly the kind of thing Jim looks for in a lover, this eagerness to please him, and Sebastian obviously ticks that box with a big dirty Sharpie. Since Sebastian is at his throat and Jim is left unable to do more than produce noise with his mouth, he uses his hands, stroking and clawing, finding areas of skin that really don't seem like they should be sensitive, but Jim knows how to move his fingers to get a reaction. The shift in Sebastian's hips has given him a better position to drag his own against Sebastian's, and the friction is even better now, so he keeps doing that, little bit of dry humping never hurt anyone. It doesn't pass him by how Sebastian reacts to his name, so Jim makes sure to moan that a few more times.

"Nnngh, fuck, Sebastian."

Sebastian cards a hand through Jim's hair, getting a grip on it and using it to bring him closer, so Sebastian can lick and bite at his ear. He's doing his best to keep concentrated on Jim, but his biggest concern is how uncomfortably tight his jeans are getting. He makes a 'mmpf' noise against Jim's neck as his hand moves to his crotch, wriggling and arching beneath Jim as he gets the zip down, just so he can shift his dick to a more comfortable position. Jim raises himself up on his knees, hovering over Sebastian's lap to give him room to manoeuvre. His breathing has gotten rather shallow now, eyelashes fluttering, and the sound of Sebastian's zip only sends a bolt of liquid heat right through him. He can't remember the last time he was this worked up, everything sharp and intense, and he's more aware of his body than usual. The closest would have been in the bathroom stall, but this is so much better, because he's clean and on his couch and, yeah okay it's probably better because it's Sebastian, because he's waited so long and he's finally won the game.

Sebastian makes a gruff noise of appreciation, tucking himself up comfortably in to the waistband of his underwear. He's cheeky and doesn't zip his jeans up again, because jeans suck for grinding. He pulls Jim back closer to him when he's done, and Jim slides his hips, checking the new arrangement. Yes, much better. He was sure he was going to start chaffing rubbing against Sebastian's nasty old denim, when he's only in a cute little pair of cotton flannel bottoms. Sebastian nibbles along his jaw to his ear.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs.

Jim tilts his head so their cheeks are pressed together and breathes hotly against Sebastian's ear.

"I want a lot of things, my sweet. I want to take you apart; break you down and build you up again better. I want to push you to every limit you have and smash right through most of them. I want to make you feel in ways so intense you'll wonder why you ever bothered with anyone else." Jim flicks his tongue against Sebastian's ear, followed by a bite. "But we have plenty of time and I'd rather not have to deal with you taking a panic attack during it. So for tonight, I'm giving you free reign to touch me as you like. Learn me. Feel how different I am from a woman. I'll let you know what I like as you go."

“I won't panic.” Sebastian smirks, palming against Jim's throat, massaging in underneath his jawline. “But I can't say no to that.”

Swallowing, he moves his hands down Jim's side to his thighs. He moves them up with his thumbs drifting along his inner thigh, towards his crotch. Jim tries his best to stay still and let Sebastian do what he wishes, but all the touches and teasing have him squirming a bit again. He distracts himself by finding Sebastian's neck, mouthing along that, giving him something else to focus on so he's not just rutting against Sebastian. He has more control than that, thanks. Sebastian obediently tilts his head to the side, allowing Jim access as he builds up the confidence to get closer. His hands find Jim's hipbone, and eventually he follows them down to stroke Jim's cock. He's back to that uncertain, exploratory motion. It's a touch that's unexpectedly slow, almost gentle.

Jim's mouth pauses, and he exhales sharply when Sebastian first touches him, not because it's anything amazing, but because the build up has been so great it's a relief to finally feel it. He's not used to people being this gentle with him, but he lets Sebastian find his bearings. He can train him into what he wants him to be later, that's just another project; tonight is about breaking him in. "There, that's not so bad, is it? Not as scary as you thought?" Kiss, kiss, bite. Lightly teasing flesh between his teeth, pressing his hips down against Sebastian's hand in encouragement.

Sebastian gives him a sharp nip on the shoulder for that comment, but he's right. It's almost familiar, like touching himself, in a weird way. He palms Jim through the fabric of his soft pyjama bottoms. He feels like a teenage girl getting intimate with a boy for the first time as he tugs at Jim's waistband, like every movement says _is this okay_? He pulls Jim's cock out, stroking it with increasing confidence. Yeah, there's nothing he can apply from his experience with women here, and his general confidence has fallen to rock bottom, but he has experience with himself, so he starts trying to apply that.

Jim's just immensely relieved that Sebastian is finally touching him, finally finally, nice calloused hands there, oh, yes, he definitely likes those. He gives a soft little moan, mixed in with a little whimper, quiet and against Sebastian's ear, more to urge him on than anything else.

"That's it. Little firmer. You don't have to be gentle with me. I can take it. I won't break." Pause, then there's a thread of amusement in his voice. "But maybe some time you can try."

Those noises, and those words, only cause Sebastian's dick to twitch. He grows a touch more confident in his movements, firmer, starting up a steady rhythm. Jim's lips are pressed to his ear, mouthing hotly.

"That's it. Wrap that gorgeous hand around my cock. And you do have lovely hands, all strong and calloused. You've killed with those hands. Beaten someone until they couldn't breathe, all for me, and they're round my dick, stroking me off so sweetly. What else could you do with those, hm? You could snap my neck, couldn't you? One easy little break and I'd be dead at your feet." Jim's words are picking up speed, his accent thicker, voice breathless, and he's turning himself on with that image as much as Sebastian. "You could hold me down and use me, cut off my breathing so I couldn't even argue. But you won't, will you? Not unless I tell you so. 'Cause you're mine. My little soldier. My good boy."

Sebastian's becoming breathless. It's so different hearing him say these things to him, directly, not just listening to him through the stalls of a club bathroom. Every word tailored for him, and they draw an actual audible moan at the last bit. His other hand slips upwards to thumb at Jim's throat again, but he doesn't press too hard, because he wants Jim to keep talking. His chest is heaving as the pace of his breathing increases. Focusing on Jim and pleasing him, responding to the noises and learning what he likes to make this better for him.

"You like this, don't you? Like hearing me tell you what you're capable of. None of those little girls would ever have done this. They'd just whine and plead for you to impale them on your cock, 'oh, please, stick it in me, I'm so wet for you, I can't wait'." His voice goes higher there, mocking. "Maybe I'll beg all pretty for you to fuck me some day, would you like that, hm? Of course you would. You'd get a kick from the power, but it's only pretend, darlin'. We both know I'm the one in control. That doesn't mean we can't-"

Jim breaks off with a breath hiss when Sebastian slides his thumb over the head of his cock.

"Play, no. Give you the pretence of control. Tie me down and gag me and use me for your own amusement. Beat me, hurt me, make me bleed for you." Little moan in there. "Perhaps if I keep this up, the sound of my voice, all low and breathy, will be enough to get you hard in future."

Sebastian's entire focus is on getting Jim off. That's it. That's what he wants from this grand display, but it's just so hard, because he's getting off on every word dripping from Jim's lips. So his hand runs down to palm at his own dick through the material of his boxers, and his hips press up towards the relief. Mostly, his focus is on Jim. His pulse is fluttering, his breathing erratic, and he's making noises in response to what Jim's saying, but the movements of his hand never falter. He's just a torrent of impulse, moving in the moment, not even thinking any more.

Jim continues talking for another few minutes, but then he's moaning too much, hissing and whimpering, humping his hips forward into Sebastian's hand. He manages to direct Sebastian's mouth back to his, but there's little technique in his kissing, most of his attention focused on his own pleasure right now, his mouth moving with sloppy enthusiasm against Sebastian's, and when he does come he bites down on Sebastian's lower lip until he draws blood.

Sebastian flares with pride and pain as he makes Jim come, feeling the heat spread against his body and the sudden sharp pain at his lip. His instinct is to pull away, but he holds himself in place, eyes shut, feeling the physical intensity of Jim's orgasm through that pain and knowing that he brought him there. A moan escapes his lips rather than a hiss of pain, and he's still thumbing himself erratically through fabric.

Jim releases Sebastian's lip, resting his cheek against Sebastian's, panting as he regains his breath. He laps at the little trickle of blood on Sebastian's lip, reaching down to knock his hand aside, and then Jim is peeling his boxers down just far enough to get a hand around his cock. It's kind of a half assed effort, but at least he's touching him. Half assed or not, the feel of Jim's hand on his cock jolts Sebastian, and he gasps at the touch. He doesn't taste blood until his lip is his own again, and he only feels the tenderness when he goes back in for another kiss. It doesn't take much to push him over the edge, not with all the build up. His head is in the curve between Jim's neck and shoulder when he comes, and he bites down to stop himself from saying Jim's name, but it's fairly obvious by the one syllable noise that comes through what it was supposed to be.

Jim rubs his hand clean on Sebastian's chest, shifting off of his lap and dropping down beside him, head resting against Sebastian's shoulder.

"You should clean that up." He gives a soft, pleased moan of satisfaction, like the one that follows a good stretch.

Sebastian melts back into the couch, feeling physically and emotionally wrecked, but yes, there is rapidly cooling semen all down his front, and that's just kind of gross. Once he's able to stand, he tucks himself in and goes to the bathroom. He only wipes himself clean at first, but then on second thoughts he decides to get a shower. He only takes five minutes before he's out and dried off, coming back to the living room, relaxed and tired.

Jim's too satisfied and sleepy, so he just fishes his blanket from the ground and drapes that over himself while he listens to Sebastian moving around down the hall. He has his eyes closed when Sebastian returns, but he hears him walk into the room and stop above him. Without words, the blanket is tossed aside and his arms go up, hands opening and closing demandingly.

"Take me to bed."

Sebastian raises his eyebrows at that, but who's he kidding? He's going to do it. Of course he is, after that. So rolling his eyes as some kind of weak rebellion, he leans down and picks him up, getting Jim's arms around his neck and letting him curl legs around his waist, like some kind of human koala. He takes him to the bedroom and lays him on his bed like a fucking child.

Jim doesn't let Sebastian go when he's set down, taking his arm and dragging him onto the bed beside him so he can't run off and over-think anything. Sebastian puts a hand out just to stop himself from landing on Jim, but he can't stop himself coming down. He frowns. He hadn't expected Jim to drag him to bed. Even though he is exhausted, he thought he might crash on the couch or wander home, but now he's here... in his bed. He could fight, but at this point, why bother? Still the least gay thing he's done all night. So why fucking bother.

Not that he could get away from Jim if he tried.

Jim wriggles around quite a bit, arranging the blanket around them until he's happy. He nuzzles up against Sebastian like a cat, head against his arm, then on his shoulder, then he's flopped onto his chest, and Sebastian is all warm and smells clean and _mmyes_. Jim is happy here, and Sebastian can't have a gay panic and run off without moving him, waking him. Yes. Satisfied, he closes his eyes and emits a soft sigh.

It's like having a bell tied around his wrist, and Sebastian is trapped, but he's also fucking exhausted, and he can sleep anywhere, any time. So fine. If he's stuck here, he'll make do with it. As Sebastian's brain starts to slip off to unconsciousness, his arm automatically tightens around Jim, pulling him that bit closer. The sound of his breathing will lull Jim to sleep, and he's tired enough to sleep through the night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian's inevitable gay panic strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:  
> Blow jobs, blow jobs everywhere.
> 
> I'd like to give a special thanks to the following, for sticking with us and leaving frequent comments. I love all of you, and sometimes your comments are the only things that motivate me to write; Phantwinter, gillykitty, s_moran_t, and shreddedpatches. Thank you. 
> 
> I can't promise updates will be as regular as usual in the next couple of weeks, what with Christmas and everything, but we don't have many more chapters to go, so I'll try my best to keep bringing you content regularly!

Sebastian stirs once the sun has risen. It takes him a moment to process where he is, and that in itself is a shock initially. As he blinks awake, he glances around the room, harshly illuminated by the morning light streaming through the window. It's not his room. Definitely not his room.

This is Jim's room.

He feels the heat of a body pressed against him; curled around him. Glancing down, he slowly opens his eyes to meet Jim's sleeping form. Instantly cringing, he turns his head away, staring at the ceiling. There's a rush of memories as last night comes flooding back to him, and he can already feel the beginnings of his hangover; of the fatigue and the regret. At least he thinks it's regret. Must be regret.

He curses beneath his breath, wanting to slip away, but he can't, because Jim has him trapped. There's no way for him to move without waking him.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

"Mmmno sleep more first," Jim mumbles, his voice thick and hazy with sleep. He's not awake enough yet to be on guard, to realise why Sebastian is freaking out, to realise anything, really, except that his pillow is moving. That's a bit annoying, because he's still all warm and drowsy, in the fuzzy area between sleep and awake.

Sebastian cringes again, making a noise of protest, trying to move as far from Jim as he can.

“Jesus Christ, Jim, can you just get the fuck off me?” Sebastian's words begin quiet, but gain volume.

Jim's eyes snap open properly this time, and he takes a moment to decide what kind of approach he is going to have to this. Slowly, he sits up, smirking as he stretches out his back with a little mewl.

"Not what you were saying last night." Jim makes sure to show off his marked neck. "Get the fuck  _on_ you, maybe."

Sebastian's hand automatically moves up to touch his own neck for a second, before the anger flares up again. Along with his fuzzy brain, the dull throb of a headache, he has; muscle ache, a lip that feels swollen, and tender flesh around his neck and shoulders. He pulls away, getting off the bed, shaking his head as he does so.

“You're a fucking asshole.”

"You made the first move, sweetheart. You came to me. Don't you try and pass the blame. I never pushed you into anything." Jim lounges back against the headboard, looking completely unaffected.

“Oh, yeah?” Sebastian glares at Jim, venomous. “You didn't do anything? So you normally have no control over the people you pick up, eh?”

Jim locks eyes with Sebastian, and the first hint of anger creeps into his tone.

"You made the choice. Didn't hear you complaining when my hand was around your dick."

“It was a fucking mistake, alright,” says Sebastian, moving out of the room to find his shirt. Nope. Not dealing with this. “I'm not gay.”

Jim's anger sparks; he thought they were over this nonsense. He doesn't let his emotion show, slowly following Sebastian out into the hall, a dangerous sway to his hips.

"You were certainly aroused for someone who is supposedly not interested."

“Yeah, well, I was drunk, wasn't I?” Sebastian pulls his shirt on. “I wasn't thinking rationally.”

"That's nonsense and you know it. You can lie to yourself, Sebastian, but you can't lie to me."

"Sorry to love you and leave you, Jimmy. Didn't mean to break your heart."

Jim physically growls at that, the name setting him off more than the teasing. Sebastian rolls his eyes, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. His mouth tastes like shit, and his throat is dry and aching. Jim's in the kitchen seconds after Sebastian, knocking the glass from his hand. It shatters against the floor.

"I am not playing this game with you, Moran. You are _mine_. You either accept that, or we are going to have a bit of trouble."

"I'm not yours. I don't belong to anyone. So you can go fuck yourself if you think any different."

Sebastian stares him down heatedly, and Jim goes very still and very quiet, his eyes darkening, his breathing stopped. He straightens up slowly with a dark smile. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"Oh, we'll see."

"Yeah, whatever the fuck that means."

Sebastian shakes his head, pushing past Jim, avoiding the glass and puddle of water as he goes to the hall to retrieve his shoes. Jim follows silently. There's a shard of glass in his foot, a slow trickle of blood coming from it, but he'll deal with that later. He watches Sebastian without a word, still smiling that dead eyed smile. Sebastian sighs aggressively in response to his lurking presence as he pulls on his boots.

"You just gonna follow me around like a creep, now?"

"It is my flat. I can go wherever I like in it."

Jim leans against the wall by Sebastian, completely unashamed of his half undressed state. Sebastian curses beneath his under again, pulling his jacket from the coat hanger.

“I'll leave you to your flat then, will I?”

“Please do.”

Jim stares him down until Sebastian leaves, slamming the door sharply behind him. Fucking little cunt.

*

After a few days of angrily stewing over what happened, with no sight or sound from Sebastian, Jim finally texts him.

> Thought you said you were done avoiding me. -JM
> 
> I'm not avoiding you. -SM
> 
> Really. -JM
> 
> I don't have any reason to come over, do I? -SM
> 
> In that case we're just never meeting up again then? -JM
> 
> You need me for anything? -SM
> 
> After the way you spoke to me I wouldn't want you even if I did. -JM
> 
> Sorry. -SM
> 
> Bit late. -JM
> 
> Didn't know you could be upset so easily. -SM
> 
> I'm not upset, but I don't appreciate being disrespected and insulted. -JM
> 
> How exactly did I insult you? -SM
> 
> I think the whole experience was rather insulting and demeaning, don't you? -JM
> 
> I can agree with that, at least. -SM
> 
> Oh boohoo, still nursing your wounded pride? -JM
> 
> Are you going to be an asshole for much longer? -SM
> 
> Are you? -JM
> 
> Fuck off. -SM

Jim doesn't dignify that with a response.

> You firing me, then? -SM
> 
> As you said, you never signed a contract. -JM
> 
> I said I was sorry. -SM
> 
> Then you told me to fuck off. Really sensing sincerity. -JM
> 
> You're trying to wind me up, what do you expect? -SM
> 
> I expect you to make more of an effort. -JM
> 
> What am I supposed to do? -SM
> 
> Whatever you like. Wouldn't want you to think I was controlling you. -JM
> 
> Are you sulking? -SM
> 
> Don't be ridiculous. -JM
> 
> That's not a no. -SM
> 
> I'm not sulking. -JM
> 
> Were you puffing your cheeks and crossing your arms when you said that? -SM
> 
> Really winning me over. -JM
> 
> Fine. Fine. Can I come over in an hour or two, then? -SM
> 
> If you want. -JM
> 
> I'll see you then. -SM

*

Sebastian stands outside Jim's door, taking a breath to steady himself. Right. Just get this over with. He raises his hand to knock, but before he has the chance, the door swings open, and he's left facing Tony. A very flushed Tony, looking very uncomfortable as he does up his zip. At the sight of Sebastian, his face falls into an expression of terror.

Sebastian becomes a wall, refusing to let him past. His eyes move slowly down to watch Tony fiddling with his zip, and his free hand tightens in to a fist automatically. Anger rises in his chest, searing, as he meets Tony's eyes again.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian's voice is quiet, but dark and intense.

Tony is terrified. He didn't want this. He didn't plan this. He was just trying to be nice and consoling, and somehow it got out of hand. He swallows, not sure what to say. Jim saves him the bother.

"Let him past, Sebastian." He's talking around a toothbrush.

Sebastian's chest is rising and falling with increasing speed. A humourless smile makes it to his lips, along with a quiet, bitter laugh. He shakes his head as he puts it together.

“He suck your dick, Tony?”

Tony just wants to melt into the ground.

“ _Sebastian_.”

Jim moves towards the door, but Sebastian pays him no mind. His nostrils flare as he shifts forward, pinning Tony to the wall by his throat.

“Something wrong with your voice, Tony, or are you just not talking to me any more?” His grip tightens, and he doesn't pause to question why he's so angry. “I should rip your fucking throat out.”

“Sebastian, you put him down this instant.” Jim actually flings his toothbrush because it's the only thing he's holding. It hits Sebastian's head and bounces off, and Jim is still approaching, toothpaste foam dripping from his mouth like he's rabid. Tony can't even apologise or beg from the position he's in, heart thundering against his chest. Jim grabs Sebastian's arm, not strong enough to pull him away. "Now."

The fact that Jim is even protecting Tony pisses Sebastian off even more, and for a few intense moments he doesn't move. Then he listens, reluctantly releasing Tony, but not looking away from him, not changing expression or stance.

"Now step back and let him past," Jim says. Tony looks towards him, concerned, and Jim smiles back apologetically. His eyes are still red rimmed from crying. "Sorry about this."

“The _fuck_?” Sebastian is furious. He follows Tony's eyes, turning to look at Jim incredulously. Jim sends him a meaningful gaze.

“Let. Him. Leave.”

He wants to break something. He wants to beat into Tony. He wants to breathe smoke. He wants to kill something. He's livid, throwing one last dangerous look at Tony, before he steps away, walking further inside just to be away from _that_. Tony spares Jim one last look and then he's gone, fleeing, no longer wanting to be involved. Jim clicks the door shut softly behind him, then slowly turns.

"Would you care to explain," says Jim in a casual tone, as if commenting on the weather, "what the fuck that was all about?"

Sebastian turns to look at Jim when he returns, exasperated.

"Are you serious?" He shakes his head, "you fucked Tony?"

"I don't think it's really any of your business who I fuck." Jim wipes toothpaste from the corner of his mouth, still surprisingly calm, all things considered.

"You could fuck anyone you wanted. Why him?"

"Still none of your business."

Sebastian shakes his head again, emitting a frustrated noise as he shoves the bag he's holding into Jim's hands; the reason he had taken so long to come down. He'd actually went out and bought Jim something pretty. Half because he said he would, and half because it seemed like a good way to smooth things over. Shoes. Nice shoes. Fucking expensive shoes, and no, he didn't pick them. There was a team of well dressed people who told him want to get.

Jim looks from the bag to Sebastian. He moves slowly to the couch and sits down, sliding the box out of the bag and opening it. They're actually proper decent shoes, ones he will wear. He smiles, looking up at Sebastian.

"Still none of your business who I fuck."

Sebastian's hands have found their way to his hips. He looks away, then back at Jim.

“Why him?”

"He was there. I felt like it. I really don't have to explain myself to you."

Jim kicks off his trainers and tries his new shoes on, pacing across the living room and back. Obviously they don't go with his jeans, but he thinks they'll be nice with his grey suit. Sebastian takes a step away, trying to calm down as he watches Jim.

“You like them?”

“They're lovely. Very tasteful.”

Sebastian nods, looking away again. His hands are shaking at his side; as he tenses and stretches his fingers.

“I didn't pick them.”

"I could tell." Jim slips the shoes off and gently puts them back in their box. He strokes them almost lovingly before putting the lid back on.

Sebastian is pacing ever so slightly, but trying not to make it obvious. It is a long moment before he speaks.

“Don't want you seeing him again.”

"Well unfortunately, you don't have any right to tell me who I can and cannot see." Jim gathers the box up, walking past Sebastian to take it to his room. Sebastian follows him.

“You know you only did it to make me jealous, or piss me off, or whatever. Well, mission accomplished."

"Why would you be jealous?” Jim asks, not looking back over his shoulder. “You don't want to sleep with me. What, am I meant to abstain then?"

Sebastian is quiet for a bit, fist clenching again. "I don't want anyone else touching you."

"Well that's just unrealistic now, isn't it?"

Jim neatly puts the shoebox away in his wardrobe, and Sebastian is shaking his head again. He walks away from the bedroom, can't bear to look at it right now, but he doesn't want to sit down either. He's just muttering to himself, trying to figure things out, and it's so stupid. Why is he so jealous? He wants to hurt Tony. Yes, that's a good idea. That could be fun.

Jim comes out a few seconds later. He doesn't offer to make coffee because he doesn't trust Sebastian with hot liquid right now. He fetches his toothbrush with a little 'tsk' and takes it off to rinse it. Swallowing, Sebastian follows Jim, finding him in front of the sink, still rinsing. He lingers behind him for a moment, but then he's stepping forward, pressing against Jim hesitantly.

“I don't like being jealous.”

Jim goes very still. He looks up, meeting Sebastian's eyes in the mirror.

"You don't get to pick me up and drop me when you choose. I'm not your plaything."

Sebastian's breathing is unnatural, but not from anger any more. His hand moves down Jim's side, and he watches Jim in the mirror as he moves forward, brushing his lips along Jim's neck. He's forcing hesitation from his actions, and that alone says more than he could if he opened his stupid mouth to speak.

Jim doesn't react. He shakes his toothbrush and puts it back in its holder.

"This is all very cute, but how am I to know it won't just be a repeat of last time?"

Sebastian feels filthy and pathetic, but he keeps coming back, keeps making the effort, keeps dealing with all the shit Jim puts him through. Truth be told, he enjoys it. He has no one else to impress.

“Tell me what you want, I'll do it.”

Jim turns in Sebastian's arms, so his back is resting against the sink. He slides his hand up along Sebastian's chest, let's it rest there for a moment. Then he slaps him across the face. Hard. Sebastian's head whips to the side with the force of the slap.

"If you _ever_ act like that again,” Jim says. “I will slice your dick off and feed it to you, then you'll never have to worry about who touches it in future."

Sebastian's voice comes stiffly after a tense moment of silence, following the echo of the slap and Jim's cutting tone. “Yessir,” he looks back at Jim, slowly.

Jim looks up at Sebastian, eyes sharp and intense, searching his.

"I should make you beg. I should make you crawl round as my dog for days, and even then you wouldn't be worthy of touching me."

Sebastian feels like dirt, feels so small, because he isn't fighting. He's giving in, and he hates himself for that, but he'd hate himself even more if he walked away now.

"I know. You're too good to me. I don't deserve it."

Jim reaches up, slides his hand into the back of Sebastian's hair, and gets a firm grip to drag him down with. He kisses him hard, no holding back this time, all teeth and claws and dominating. Sebastian's taken aback by the sudden aggression of it, but he doesn't fight. He submits, his hands moving to grip onto the edge of the sink.

The kiss doesn't last too long. It's more a test than anything else, to see if Sebastian will flinch away, will show any sign of doubt. Jim looks him over again when he's done.

"What do you want?"

Sebastian is still somewhat off guard when he's done, but his pupils are blown as he stares back at Jim.

"I want you. I want to do whatever you tell me. I don't want you sucking Tony's dick."

Jim smirks, licking the corner of his mouth. He rubs his hands over Sebastian's chest, with a devious glint in his eyes.

"Would you prefer if I were sucking your dick?"

Sebastian tenses, but it's only slight, only for a fraction of a second. Every fibre of his being screams _yes_ , but he doesn't want to give in to Jim's control over him so easily again and again.

“Well, you just brushed your teeth... wouldn't want to ruin the minty freshness.”

Jim shifts forward, pressing his body against Sebastian's, not breaking eye contact.

"I'll just put the kettle on, then."

Sebastian doesn't move aside, doesn't intend to.

"Do you get off on teasing me, then?"

"I wouldn't say I get off on it, but it is enjoyable."

"Glad one of us enjoys it, then."

"Poor baby. Going to let me past?"

Sebastian stays in place for a moment, staring down at him, and then he takes a step to one side, gesturing through the door.

"Go ahead."

Jim raises an eyebrow but says nothing. He makes his way through to the kitchen, hopping onto the counter and clicking the kettle on. Sebastian follows him without hesitation, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning against the counter opposite to Jim.

"Still wanna beat the shit out of Tony."

Jim smiles, swinging his legs.

"Aw, you're pretty when you're jealous." He pauses his movements and spreads his legs a little. "Come here."

Sebastian's shoulder drags back, and he inclines his head. After some hesitation, his hands come out of his pockets and he moves across to Jim, between his legs, until he's pressed against him and the counter. Jim curls his legs around Sebastian's waist and rests his hands on Sebastian's shoulders. "Tony didn't make me get on my knees, babe. Tony didn't touch me. I'm the one that slid down and sucked his cock like I was starving for it."

A breath leaves Sebastian and its hard to tell whether it's surprise, ecstasy, or aggression. His expression certainly isn't giving anything away.

"Just to piss me off?"

"Because I wanted to watch someone fall apart beneath me and you weren't here. You had the chance and you walked out on it."

"I'm new to this shit. Did you expect me to just wake up one day and prance around like Richard fucking Simmons?"

"I expected you to act like an adult and discuss it with me, rather than snap at me and storm out." Jim's been absently curling Sebastian's hair around his fingers, but as he says this he gives a sharp tug. Sebastian's jaw tenses in response.

“I should really shave that off.”

“I like having something to grab onto,” Jim murmurs, smoothing his fingers out again.

Sebastian glances away, aware he's deflecting. When he looks back at Jim, he shrugs.

“I panicked.”

"That was a foolish response. You're lucky I've decided to overlook it. You really don't deserve it."

“It's a lot to take on board first thing in the morning."

"Don't make excuses. It's done with now." Jim loosens his legs as the kettle clicks. "Tea."

Sebastian doesn't think about the command, just reacts. Mug, tea bag, water, milk, stir. Setting the mug by him, and going back to make coffee.

"You forgot the sugar." Jim frowns, "you're slipping already."

Sebastian finds the sugar and a spoon to correct his mistake.

"I thought you were sweet enough."

"Cute." Jim slides down and takes his tea, vanishing off to the living room. He settles on the couch, waits for Sebastian to follow. 3, 2... there he is. Wrapped around his finger. Sebastian settles beside Jim, nursing his mug.

"Shag anyone else since I left?"

"That would be telling." Jim doesn't look at Sebastian, blowing on his tea to cool it.

“Fine,” Sebastian nods.

"Is it making your skin crawl, thinking about it? All those hands that could have been touching me, making me beg and moan."

"I was too preoccupied to think about it before. I guess we're even."

Jim smirks against the rim of his mug.

"You haven't been with anyone else,” Sebastian says after a while.

"Why do you say that?"

"I just know."

"Hmm..." Jim tugs his collar down, looking at the bruise just below the dip of his neck. "I must have fallen into a door handle or something then."

Sebastian hums, trying to stay detached.

"Girl or guy?"

"Which one was that..." Jim scrunches up his nose. "Guy, perhaps?"

"You're an asshole."

“Why's that?"

"Your number's creeping up fast, isn't it?"

“Why does that make me an asshole?”

"Doesn't matter."

"No. I want you to tell me,” Jim says, and it is an order.

"You didn't even seem to give a fuck about getting fucked all that often, until I pissed you off by walking out."

"Whoever and whenever I decided to shag had nothing to do with you, so I don't see why it suddenly makes me an asshole."

"Alright. You're not an asshole. You're a fucking delight."

"I don't understand why you're so angry about other people touching me. You walked out. You said you weren't mine. So why should I act like yours?"

Sebastian opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again. He can't argue with that, can he?

"Exactly,” Jim says, sipping his tea.

Sebastian shakes his head, but he keeps quiet, drinking his coffee. Jim wriggles across the couch so he can lean against him.

"Next time you walk out on me, you don't get another chance." His tone is cheery, upbeat, but he means that.

“I know.” Cheery cheery tone, but he's just as sincere.

Satisfied, Jim settles himself against Sebastian. He's gotten his own back after everything. Sebastian sips from his mug, trying not to think about Jim sucking Tony off. He's annoyed that it even bothers him, but he can't get it out of his head.

Where did it happen?"

"Hmm?" Jim's been going over plans for a weapons import in his head. He rolls his head back against Sebastian's shoulder, tilting it curiously. Sebastian keeps his cool for once, repeating himself.

“Where did it happen?”

"Where did Tony happen? Here, obviously. You saw him leaving."

"Specifically."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah."

"Kitchen."

Sebastian gives a tight nod. The kitchen is what he thinks of as his room, so that just adds insult to injury.

"Tiny dick?"

"Average."

"Right." Sebastian falls quiet, chewing his lip. “Sorry.”

"Stop apologising. It's annoying. What are you sorry for, now?"

"Still just for leaving."

"That's over with."

"Yeah, alright."

"You've learned your lesson." Jim gives Sebastian a little pat on the arm.

"I have," he says after a beat. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Depends. How do you intend to do that?"

"However you want me to."

"That's such a cop out answer."

"Is it?"

"It is. You'll do whatever I want anyway."

"What _do_ you want?"

"A lot of things. The world."

A smile catches Sebastian off guard at that, and he nods

“It'll be at your feet."

"Yes."

Finishing his tea, Jim hands his empty mug to Sebastian, who takes it without question. Sliding off the couch, he lifts it with his own cup to wash them. In the kitchen, he automatically frowns, picturing Jim going down on Tony. Jim leaves him to get on with it, knowing that room is tainted for Sebastian now.

“How's work?” Sebastian asks upon his return.

"Fine." Jim leans back against Sebastian when he sits down again, but otherwise ignores him for several minutes. "Might be moving soon."

“Getting somewhere nicer?"

"Yeah, well, it's going to be awkward now I've blown the postman, isn't it?"

"Hilarious."

"If business picks up, I'll be able to buy somewhere."

"That'd be good.” Sebastian nods. "I can help you look for a place if you want."

"I was thinking of somewhere bigger. Maybe two bedrooms."

"Getting a guest room to keep your lays in now? That's considerate."

"Was thinking more along the lines of a long term room mate."

“Good luck finding someone you don't want to kill,” says Sebastian, snorting.

"Don't play oblivious, Sebastian, it's unbecoming of you."

“You're joking." Sebastian looks down at him with a frown, and Jim turns his head to look at him.

"I'm not laughing."

"Why?" Pause. "And I'm not asking why you're not laughing."

"It's more convenient to have you on hand.” Jim shrugs. “If things do take off, heaven knows who might be after me."

"I don't know, that's ehh... a big decision."

"It's not a request."

"You can't say I don't have a choice in this."

"You said I get anything I want."

"This is me moving in with you. That's different."

"You're making a big deal out of it."

"It's a bit of a big deal."

"Only if you make it one."

"I can't just move on a whim."

"I don't see why not." Jim frowns.

"Can I think about it?"

Jim sighs, long, dragged out.

"I suppose," he says.

"Thanks."

"Mm."

"That all you want?"

"For now."

"Alright then."

Jim taps away at his phone some more, before sliding it into his pocket. He rolls his head up, looking at Sebastian closely before kissing the base of his neck. It's part testing the waters, part winding him up. Sebastian's lost in his own thoughts, and the kiss causes him to tense automatically. He forces himself to relax. His jaw is still set, but he doesn't pull away.

Jim shifts to get a better angle. He presses a few more kisses to Sebastian's skin, working with his tongue, before pulling away and reaching for the remove like nothing happened. Sebastian blinks across at him, lips slightly parted, completely thrown, but he doesn't say anything. Jim turns on their usual crappy daytime TV, drops the remote where Sebastian can reach it, and settles down with his back against his arm. Sebastian continues to watch him, frowning deeply, before he stares at the TV.

"I should start keeping alcohol here,” he says.

"Is this your way of saying you need to be drunk to fuck me? Thanks for that."

"Didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it."

"I was thinking I could use a beer."

"Bit early in the day to be drinking."

"It's late somewhere."

"There's wine in the cupboard."

"I'll pass,” Sebastian says, wrinkling up his nose. “Who said I was gonna fuck you, anyway? Sober or not."

"For someone who said they'd do anything, you don't actually seem up for much."

"Yeah, well. You didn't seem to want much when I asked."

"I said for now. Later I might want more."

"Consider me in suspense."

"If you're not going to fuck me, I can still fuck other people, right?"

"I didn't know you were into monogamy, anyway."

"You're the one that tried to kill the postman, sweetheart."

"So, don't fuck other people."

"So many mixed signals."

"Did I manage to confuse you? Wow, that's a first."

"Well you're confused, too. I think you said I should gang bang the postmen? Yes?"

"I think I said if you touch anyone, or anyone touches you, they'll be breathing their last breaths."

Jim's eyes darken at that, but otherwise he doesn't react.

"That doesn't seem doesn't seem very fair,” he says.

"Why not?"

"I'm not allowed to touch anyone, and yet I'm not getting fucked. Hmm."

"Fine. I'll fuck you."

"Good boy." Jim gives Sebastian a pat on his arm, and Sebastian rolls his eyes.

"So, you're not gonna touch anyone else?"

"Maybe not,” Jim says. “For now."

"That's reassuring."

"We'll see how you behave."

"I feel like a fucking child."

“Don't touch anyone or I'll throw a temper tantrum,” Jim says, imitating Sebastian's accent.

"Coming from the guy who's all 'yer moine. I own yewww. Yew'll do what I tell ya or all rip aff yer dick and shuv it down yer throat. Tra lala tappa tha marnin."

Jim looks up at Sebastian with a beautifully shocked expression. It's glorious. Wee fucker.

"I do _not_ sound like that."

"I dew _nawt_ sound lioke dat!"

Sebastian's really lucky Jim has already finished his tea. He goes for the low blow instead, slamming his elbow back into Sebastian's dick. Sebastian tenses, cupping himself tenderly. Not so smug any more.

“You fucker.”

“Whoopsie,” Jim grins widely, “I slipped. Shall I kiss it better?”

"Sure you're not going to bite it off for your next party trick?"

"Don't give me ideas,” Jim says, bearing his teeth.

"Might know better than to let you near that when you're angry enough to whack it."

"Where's the fun in that, eh? Little risk livens things up."

"Haven't you sucked enough dick for one day?"

"Like there's a limit."

"Good to know."

"I'll just remember that then. 'Doesn't like having his dick sucked.'"

"Didn't say that. Definitely didn't say that."

"'Doesn't want me to suck his dick.'"

"I would love you to suck my dick."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, of course."

Jim meets Sebastian's eyes, and slowly licks his lips. Sebastian's mouth shuts, and he swallows, semi-nervous. Raising his eyebrows, Jim hollows his cheeks. Sebastian's eyes narrow slightly, and he gives a small shake of his head. Jim breaks and grins.

"This is going against every instinct you're conscious of, isn't it?"

Sebastian swallows again, nodding.

“Yup.”

Jim reaches out, trailing his fingertips down along Sebastian's cheek from his temple. He pauses at his chin, stroking his thumb along Sebastian's lower lip, delighting in his discomfort. Sebastian forces himself not to flinch or tense.

"You don't even want me, do you? You just don't want anyone else to have me." Jim knows there is a part of Sebastian that wants him, but he wants to hear it.

“Maybe.” Sebastian frowns, pained, but his eyes dip to Jim's lips and he hates himself for it.

"Why should I settle for someone who doesn't want me?" Jim mirrors his frown, taking his hand away and folding his arms.

Sebastian sighs, leaning towards Jim even as he pulls away.

“You know I want you.”

"Not _really_." Jim's frown deepens and he looks at Sebastian darkly. "Not completely."

"If the trend is anything to go by, it won't be long."

Jim turns his head away with a soft little sound of displeasure.

"Don't be like that,” says Sebastian.

"Like what?"

"Like this."

"I'm not being like anything."

"You're not happy with me."

Jim remains silent. Sebastian is not getting reassurance from him. Grimacing, Sebastian leans in. He only hesitates momentarily before planting a kiss at the base of Jim's neck. Jim goes tense beneath his touch.

“I do want you,” Sebastian says.

"You're just acting. It's just some caricature of desire."

"If I didn't want you,” Sebastian says between more kisses. “I wouldn't be here."

"You're only here to stop other people having me. It's a possessive thing."

"It's not.” Sebastian moves a hand to play with the hair at the base of Jim's neck. "I just don't like the thought of you with anyone else."

Jim automatically wants to lean into the touch, but he stops himself.

"How can I trust anything you say after last time?"

"You just have to. I'm not going anywhere."

Jim leans back fractionally, still tense. Sebastian kisses at his neck again.

“I promise,” he murmurs, breath warm against Jim's skin.

Jim tilts his head, emitting a soft sigh. He finally lets himself lean into Sebastian's touch. Sebastian just continues with his attentions.

“It's a good thing I don't get parcels any more,” Jim says.

“Why's that?”

"Don't think Tony will be coming back."

"I hope he does."

"You can't kill the postman, Sebastian. Not without good reason."

"Seems like a pretty good reason to me."

"If you're going to kill every guy I've ever sucked off you might need a while."

"Just everyone from the last few days."

"Why are they different?"

"They came after me."

"After you left."

"I didn't say I was going for good. I just needed a break."

"You were acting as if I forced myself upon you. You made no effort to get in contact afterwards. There was no evidence you intended to return."

"I told you before that I was around for good. I thought you'd be in touch if you wanted me for something."

"You were too proud and cowardly to come back, so you waited. If I hadn't of got in touch would I have seen you again?"

"Probably."

"If you were so opposed to me finding someone else, you should have made your move before that. You're right; they came after you, because when you left you put an end to whatever happened that night. I didn't owe you anything in your absence."

"What did you honestly expect? Me to wake up singing the soundtrack to Evita?"

"We have discussed this already. I expected you to act with a little more maturity and respect than you did, but clearly that was too much to ask. Consequently, you had no claim over me during the time you were gone, and thus it's none of your concern what I go up to. We are done with this topic now; it's over."

"Fine.” Sebastian's jaw tenses, and he leans away from Jim. “But if Tony gives me a reason, I'm taking it."

"I think your anger is misdirected, darling."

"Who should I be directing it at, then?"

"I prompted it. I brought him in, played him up, backed him against the counter and held him there while I swallowed him down."

Sebastian cringes and looks away.

"He was so sweet when I was upset. So comforting. I thought he deserved a reward."

"You weren't even really upset."

"He didn't know that, little dear."

"You want me to be angry at you?"

"I'm an available outlet for all that aggression. It's not healthy to keep it all stored up."

"You already proved I won't hit you properly,” Sebastian says, frowning.

"Now you know that's not the only way you can let off steam."

"You want me to ragefuck you."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Yeah, you _would_ like that."

"That's rather the point,” Jim says.

"I'm not angry." Sebastian smirks, sinking back into the couch. Jim slides closer and sets his hand on Sebastian's thigh. Sebastian glances at the hand, then at Jim. “I'm not angry. I'm jealous.”

"Then do something about it." Jim has dropped his voice, made it low and soft. His hand slides further up. "Reclaim me."

Sebastian's head rolls towards Jim, running his eyes up and down his body. His lips part slightly, and then his gaze lands on Jim's mouth. He moves in to kiss him hard, aggressively pushing him by the shoulders, pressing him down into the couch so he's on top. Jim makes a small sound of surprise, muffled by Sebastian's mouth. He goes down without a fight, and the weight of Sebastian on top of him is a glorious sensation. Little tingles spark down along the length of his body. He recovers swiftly and kisses back just as fiercely.

Mouth pressed forcefully to Jim's, Sebastian reaches between them, unzipping Jim's jeans. Jim hadn't really expected Sebastian to move quite so quickly. His intention had been to stir him into action, prompt him to do something, but this is even more than he'd thought. Not that he's complaining, no no, he couldn't even with the pressing force of Sebastian's mouth against his. He just wriggles and moans and is generally a slut, but what's new there.

Jealousy is quite a driving factor for Sebastian, and reclaiming Jim is not something to be put off. He moves down to his neck, leaving bruises in his wake, remarking Jim as his. Jim is more vocal once his mouth is free, and his hands tangle in Sebastian's hair. Sebastian's hands are moving on Jim's jeans, and once he gets them open, he moves Jim so he can comfortably slip them down. Then he changes his mind

Face set with aroused, determined aggression, he picks Jim up without a word and carries him to the kitchen. _Oh,_ he does like to make a point, doesn't he? Pressing Jim against the counter, Sebastian kisses him thoroughly again. Possessively. Then he's sliding to his knees, looking up at Jim like he's going to teach him a fucking lesson. Jim's body tingles beneath that stare.

Not giving himself time to doubt, or fear, or feel disgusted, Sebastian curls one hand around Jim's hip and the other around the base of his cock. The hand on the hip pulls Jim forward, and Sebastian takes him into his mouth.

It's not the best blow job Jim's ever had, but there will be time to train Sebastian later. The idea that he's the first Sebastian has ever done this for makes it so much hotter, and he is trying, mouthing at Jim's cock with such enthusiasm it almost makes up for the lack of technique. It is wet and sloppy, Sebastian sucking and licking how he thinks he'd like it, not that he's ever really been in the right mind to pay attention to technique when there's been a mouth around his cock. He hollows his cheek, and drags his tongue, using his hand on what his mouth can't take. Occasionally his teeth scrape accidentally, and Jim's hand tightens in his hair in warning.

When Jim finally comes; gripping the counter tightly as his legs quiver beneath him, whimpering as his hips press forward into Sebastian's mouth in small, short thrusts, Sebastian swallows like a good little slut. Eager to please. He rises slowly to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Giving Jim a curt nod, he disappears back to the living room like nothing happened. Playing it cool.

Jim takes a moment to recover himself before following Sebastian. He drops down over him, straddling his lap, and it's Jim's turn to take control of the kissing. It's not as aggressive as before, because Jim has just got off, and he is warm and lazy in the post orgasm haze. He kisses Sebastian slow, languid, thoroughly; taking his time to prompt his lips apart, tease his tongue into response, properly explore his mouth.

The kiss seems to last an age, and it's only when Sebastian's hips are beginning to roll beneath him, seeking some form of friction, that Jim will slip off of his lap to kneel between his legs. He sets his palms on Sebastian's knees, slowly sliding them up along his thighs. Sebastian watches him with hooded eyes, and Jim stares right back with those big, dark eyes as he undoes his jeans.

Jim has a lot more experience than Sebastian in this area, has lots of tricks he can bring in to play. He circles his tongue around the head of Sebastian's cock, flicking the tip over his slit, giving him teasing touches that won't bring him any real belief. Sebastian's head falls back against the couch, eyes shutting, but he wants to watch Jim, wants to see this, so he forces them open just in time to see Jim take him all the way to the back of his throat. Fuck. Jim hums around hum. _Fuck_.

It's over a lot quicker than Sebastian would like, with Jim's head bobbing away down there like he could go all day, all wet warmth and pressure in all the right places. He grips Jim's hair as he falls apart with a hiss.

Jim crawls up to his usual place on the couch, ruffling Sebastian's hair.

“Good boy.”

Sebastian is too taken apart to care what Jim says right now. He tucks his dick away once he regains brain function, then just basks in the nice orgasm aftermath. Man blow jobs are nice. Jim is way too good at those.

Then he's thinking about Tony again. Shit.

Jim starts pushing and tugging at Sebastian, arranging him into a nicely shaped pillow for Jim to lie back against, and Sebastian is too relaxed to protest. Jim ignores him in favour of his phone, and Sebastian turns to watching TV.

After half an hour or so, Jim shifts so he can nuzzle against Sebastian's chest.

"Not leaving this time?"

"I think you've made sure I can't, anyway. But no. I'm not going."

Jim smiles, satisfied, and settles possessively against Sebastian's chest.

"Good." Pause. "Have you made a decision about our earlier conversation yet?"

To Jim, this has been long enough for Sebastian to think about it, and he's more likely to be agreeable post orgasm. Sebastian hums, and he has turned it over in his head a bit, but not enough, really.

"I'm assuming you're going to have a set of fun rules if I said yes?"

"Well, yes, there will be guidelines." Jim rests his chin against Sebastian's chest and looks up at him.

"Wanna give me a sneak peek at some of those?"

"Just simple things. Clean up after yourself. Give me space when I'm working. Don't smoke indoors." Jim shrugs. "Nothing too challenging."

"Any chance of something with a balcony, then? Or roof access?"

"We'll see. I suppose you may come viewing with me."

“Yeah, if you want,” Sebastian says, quietly, because he feels like this is a slippery slope.

"We can get you some equipment for your room. Tighten up that arse of yours."

Sebastian shoots Jim an offended, venomous stare.

"Well, if I'm going to be shagging an old man, I'd at least like him to be in shape,” Jim says.

"I'm _not_ old. And I _am_ in shape."

"Mmmhmm."

"I wouldn't actually be here with you if I wasn't."

"Really? Would you be at the gym?"

"Oh come on. You've got high standards for everything. Am I supposed to believe I'd be fucking you or working for you if I was old, ugly. and shit?"

"Are you suggesting I'm shallow? You have other talents."

"I'm not suggesting. I'm _observing_."

"You ass is still saggy."

"No it isn't."

"Little bit."

"Not even slightly. It's fucking fantastic."

"No, it's definitely gotten worse."

"It's perfect. Michelangelo couldn't have sculpted better."

"Some of his sculptures were quite dodgy, is that really who you want to pick?"

"He's the only sculptor I know."

"Bernini had some nice butts."

"I'll take your word for it." Sebastian chuckles, "my ass is perfect. And the scarring just gives it character."

"At least you have confidence, if nothing else. Even if it is misplaced."

"Better arse than yours at least."

"Excuse me?" Jim blinks up at Sebastian. He's allowed to mock him, Sebastian is actually ripped. Jim's skinny arse is off limits.

“Relax, Jimmy.” Sebastian smirks, ruffling his hair, then reaching down to slap his ass. “It's a great arse.”

"One, that's not my name. Two, you do that again and I will saw off your hand. Three, you bet it's a great arse."

“You're so cute when you're mad,” Sebastian says, still smirking.

"I'm glad you think so, sweetie. Will I be cute with Tony's prick up my arse?" Jim bats his eyelids sweetly.

"I'm pretty sure he'll get his dick chopped off if anything even close to that happens."

"Awh. You're cute when you're angry."

"Point made."

"And a nice case for your guns,” Jim says, as if their conversation never went off tangent.

It takes Sebastian a moment to understand what he's talking about.

"Maybe a kitchen where you haven't shagged anyone?"

"Ha ha. You'll want a nice kitchen, housewife that you are. And we spend far too much time on the couch, so we'll need a good one of those."

"Yeah right. Housewife. You'll want to get me a fucking maids outfit too, then. You know, actually cleaning up after myself and having the ability to fry something doesn't make me a housewife, right? It makes me an adult."

Jim just looks up at Sebastian with a smile when he mentions an outfit, not paying much mind to the rest of that.

"No,” Sebastian says.

"Yooooou brought it up."

"Iiiiiiiiii was joking."

"You should know better."

"Not gonna wear costumes. Thanks."

"You hungry?" is all Jim says.

"Is that you telling me to make something? Because you can pretty much assume I'm always hungry."

"I was actually going to suggest we order something, but if you're so eager to prove your housewifelyness."

"As if you have any food in this place." Sebastian snorts. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Don't care." Jim's only eating because his tummy is starting to ache a little with hunger.

"Pizza?"

"Works with me. Long as you don't get anything gross on it."

"What's gross?"

"Pineapple. Or anchovies." Jim scrunches up his nose. "Or sweet corn."

"You don't like sweet corn?"

"Not on pizza."

"Righhhht."

"Don't take that tone with me."

"What tone. there was no tone."

"There was a tone."

"That's my regular tone."

"Mhmm."

"I'm not smart enough to take a tone. I'm pretty dumb."

"Mhm. Weren't you sorting food?"

"There's a place in town but I don't have the number. Have to do it on the line on your phone or on your foldy computer.”

"Foldy... is that your word for laptop?" Jim looks at Sebastian, shocked. "Oh god. You're so old."

"Same thing. You know what I mean."

"It's in the bedroom. Bring it to me."

"You forgot to say 'fetch, boy'."

Sebastian retrieves Jim's laptop, and when he returns, Jim opens the browser for him so he doesn't accidentally wipe anything. The Sebastian takes over; the world's slowest typing and mouse moving and clicking. Jim is finding it quite painful to watch.

“Are you... are you actually serious right now?”

“What?” Sebastian looks up. “No pepperoni?”

“You're... you're so...” pained expression. “ _You're so slow_.”

“We don't all live on computers.”

“Give me that, give me that.” Jim takes the laptop back, because he just can't endure it any longer. “It'll take you all night to type the address.”

"You're too high stung."

Jim doesn't reply, but his typing is considerably faster than Sebastian's. He adds lots of side orders, because when he actually gets hungry he likes a variety of food to eat from. Even if he won't finish half of it, he knows Sebastian will. He has a hoover now. Goodbye leftovers; hello human trash can.

Sebastian watches him without complaint, because food is great, and he always forgets to eat when he's visiting Jim.

“So, no smoking in here?”

“No.”

“Have to go outside then?” Sebastian sighs.

“Or you could just not smoke.”

“I've been smoking since I was sixteen. Not about to quit now. You never had an addiction?"

"It's just psychology,” Jim says, looking darkly at Sebastian. “They're not that difficult to break."

"Don't really want to.” Sebastian starts rolling his cigarette. “I enjoy it."

Jim clicks his foldy computer shut with a little snap. Sebastian looks up at him, dragging his tongue along the skin.

“What's the big deal?” he asks.

“It smells horrible.”

"I always smell like smoke. You haven't mentioned it."

"I'm mentioning it now."

"I'm not quitting. Come on, don't be a dick. I've changed pretty much every part of my life since I met you. Smoking is something that's been consistent through my life. I can't give it up."

Jim doesn't reply. Rolling his eyes, Sebastian gets up. Grabbing his jackets, shoes, and Jim's keys on the way out, he heads off to have his smoke.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sebastian go to Spain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay of this chapter. Between holidays plans, and the spiral of depression this time of year puts me into, I've had little time and less motivation. I've got 7k words of academic essay writing I'm just about to start into, so the next chapter might be a while as well.   
> Again, I'm sorry for the wait, but happy new year to everyone!

When Sebastian returns, Jim is off in his head; staring at the television, but his eyes are vacant. Sebastian sighs, taking his jacket off and hanging it up, leaving his shoes by the door, like the tidy boy he is. He grimaces as he walks past the kitchen, thinking of Tony again.

Jim shuffles away when Sebastian sits down, because ew, he smells like smoke, and when the door knocks, he actually goes to answer it. Just so he can flirt with the pizza man. Sebastian watches him angrily over the back of the couch, still glaring when Jim brings the food back and starts setting the boxes on the table. He acts oblivious to Sebastian's staring, taking out a piece of pizza.

“Dickhead,” Sebastian mutters beneath his breath.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” Jim looks at Sebastian, all doe eyed innocence.

“I heard you.”

“Heard me what...?” Jim wipes sauce from the corner of his mouth, and it only got there so he would look endearing.

“Heard you flirting with the pizza man,” Sebastian says, deadpan.

"I was only speaking to him."

"You were flirting with him."

"Are you going to be like this every time I talk to someone?"

"Are you going to fuck with my head every time you're pissed at me?"

"You're working yourself up over nothing."

"You're fucking impossible."

"Calm down. For someone who got off less than an hour ago, you're very stressed."

"Can't please you, can I?"

"Eat. Stop complaining."

Sebastian shakes his head, looking away from Jim, but he does start eating. Jim opens the other boxes as he feels like it, nibbling on garlic bread and fries and dough balls, but not eating particularly much of anything. Sebastian “the hoover” Moran will work his way through the rest, and he loses interest in Jim when he sees some hot girl on their shitty TV shows. He doesn't even realise; eating and staring.

Jim's ego is not so fragile as Sebastian's, so he pays no mind. When his stomach can't take any more, he lies back on the couch, nursing his swollen tummy and letting Sebastian finish off the rest, until they're left with a collection of empty boxes.

“Throw those out, will you?” Jim says, and Sebastian does so, because the mess annoys him. Not because Jim told him to.

Upon his return, Jim stretches out across the couch and rests his head in Sebastian's lap. Sebastian is uncomfortable at first, but eventually he relaxes, watching TV as he absently plays with Jim's hair. Jim dozes off for half an hour; full and sleepy. When he wakes, he sits up and runs a hand through his hair.

"How do you feel about Spain?"

"Uhm, fairly neutral?"

"Fancy a holiday?"

"You got a job for me?" Sebastian sits up straighter, looking across at Jim.

"I have a few people I have to meet, and I wouldn't mind a bit of muscle behind me."

"And all the guys with pretty arses were busy?"

"I'd prefer an arse I know can take a bullet."

Sebastian laughs, nodding.

“Yeah, alright. When do we leave?”

"This weekend. It's not worth the hassle of smuggling weapons, so I'll get us something sorted once we're across."

"Makes sense." Sebastian is a touch disappointed, because he prefers to work with his own guns, but then again, he'd prefer not to need a weapon if it's only a meeting.

"Don't look so put out, if this deal goes through we'll have access to highly advanced weaponry, and I'm hoping we won't need it while we're there."

"That's what the deal is? You want a piece in the weapons import/export flow through Spain?"

"Yes. Nothing particularly interesting, but the money will be good and I thought you'd appreciate a wider selection of toys."

"Awh," says Sebastian, tone mocking, but he is secretly genuine. He runs a finger along Jim's jawline, from ear to chin. “That's so thoughtful.”

Jim rolls his eyes.

"The better equipped you are, the better you perform for me."

“Right, of course.” Sebastian smirks. “That's very important.”

"That is the most important."

"Oh definitely, couldn't agree with you more," says Sebastian, but he's still smug. Jim nudges him with his elbow.

"That's sorted then. And when we return, we shall go flat viewing. If we make it back in one piece."

"I'll be there. Of course we'll be back in one piece."

*

 _Beep beep beep_.

“Sorry sir, can you step this way please?”

“Yes, of course. What's wrong?”

“We're just going to have to search you.”

Sebastian watches from his place in line as the airport security man pats Jim down. Jim stands with his legs parted and arms spread, smiling as he chatters away, apologising when they discover he 'accidentally' left his keys in his pocket. Whoops! Sebastian sighs. Let's not slam anyone against walls today, we need to avoid being on the no-fly list. When he finally gets to step through the scanner, they call him aside for a 'random' drug swab across his belt and assorted carry on, which doesn't help his mood.

Jim's having great fun already. He's never travelled with anyone before. New experience. He stops in Costa once they're through security, because their gate doesn't open for an hour, and ridiculously sugared drinks are definitely necessary pre-flight. Sebastian is excited to be doing something, but he prefers to travel alone, and on the smaller scale, every little thing is making him grumpy. He only has a decaf coffee, praying he can sleep on the plane and miss Jim's sugar rush.

“That's going to make you sick,” he says.

“No it's not,” Jim says, texting away with one hand while sipping his icy sugary drink through a straw. “Stop being a big ol' grumpyguts.”

“I'm not being grumpy.” Sebastian sighs, exaggerated. “D'you enjoy going through security?”

“Depends.” Jim smiles, glancing over his phone at Sebastian.

“On?”

"Many things."

"You going to be specific, or do I have to drag it out of you?"

"What mood I'm in. If I'm running late. If the security guards are attractive."

"Lovely."

Jim smirks, amused, and Sebastian sighs again.

When their gate number shows up on the board, Jim moves towards it, leaving Sebastian to bring along both their carry on luggage. On the plane he, of course, demands the window seat, leaving Sebastian beside the stranger. Sitting in the middle. Nightmare. He makes sure to dominate the arm rest.

They both settle down to read for most of the flight; Sebastian a historic biography of some kind, and Jim a complicated space book. When he gets bored, he starts feeling Sebastian up for fun. The unexpected touching catches him off guard, and he aggressively bangs his knee off of the seat in front. Which, really, is far too close. Who are these seats even designed for?

Jim keeps a straight face, looking out the window as his hand shifts higher. Sebastian makes an effort not to jump again, shielding Jim's hand from view with his book. Shielding, but not stopping, which leaves Jim to continue that movement until he's massaging Sebastian through his jeans. The little shit. Unable to take any more of this level nine cringe factor, Sebastian squeezes out of that hell and past the guy in the aisle seat, disappearing to the bathroom. Nope. Not dealing with it.

Satisfied, Jim goes back to reading his book as if nothing ever happened, not even looking up when Sebastian comes back. Sebastian's relieved, if nothing else. Looking a little frazzled, annoyed at Jim.

*

Jim has a car arranged for when they arrive, and Sebastian carries the bags from the airport, and then from the car to their hotel. When they arrive, Jim changes into lighter clothes and flops onto the bed, whining about the heat. Sebastian, however, is in his element. He hates the cold. Any time the sun is out in England, he's off into it for sports, or out in the park, or just absorbing it like a cat lying outside in the summer heat. He's half naked once they're in their room, wandering about in just a pair of shorts, making his way out to the balcony.

Jim eventually forces himself off the bed. His energy levels deplete in the heat, and he's going to be grumpy for the next few days. He finds Sebastian on the balcony, taking a moment to look him over.

“I'm going for a walk,” Jim says, which is mostly to scope the area, but he can tell Sebastian has a desire to be out and about. “Coming?”

Sebastian looks up from his book with a grin, eyes eager at the thought. Yes. Take me out. Walks! I love walks. He doesn't bother removing his sunglasses as he pulls on a white v neck, and his shorts are an awful faded cameo print things. He's got good for walking sandals on, the kind of things dads wear. Eager and ready.

“You put sunscreen on?” he asks. “You don't want to burn.”

"I'm not going to burn," says Jim, who will most definitely burn. He's dressed similar to Sebastian. Light coloured top, loose shorts, some form of sandal - and he's not happy about these clothes, but sometimes it is just too hot to put fashion first. Woes.

"Better safe than looking like a lobster," Sebastian says, coming at him with a bottle and tapping a splat of white on Jim's nose without warning. He's in such a better mood in hot climates. Much better than rainy old England.

Jim's not be pleased about this, because sunscreen makes him feel all greasy and gross. He allows Sebastian to put it on, but he's scowling through the whole thing. Sebastian massages the lotion onto his face and neck, and any exposed parts of his chest and shoulders, before kneeling to put it on Jim's legs. The rubbing is quite nice, and really the only reason Jim's allowing him to do it.

When they're done, Jim leads the way outside, sliding his shades on against the sun. Sebastian brings a rucksack with him; a bottle of water, a map, his wallet, phone, some sunscreen in case they need to top up. Mister Prepared. Just so happy to be outside, with different air and different people. A new culture and language. Actually here for 'fun', and not trapped into army things. Jim finds the change in him interesting, silently noting it away, and this distraction will stop him being quite so grumpy.

He leads them in a wander around the general hotel area, looking for any signs that they're being watched, and relaxing when he finds none. Not that he drops his attention. Sebastian follows him like a good little soldier, eyes sharp, always looking for people who look suspicious or malicious, anything that looks like it doesn't belong. Finally, Jim looks towards him.

“Anywhere you want to go?”

“I don't mind.” Sebastian shrugs, looking quite merry. “We could just walk towards the town and get a lay of the land?”

"Yeah, okay." Jim gives a little glare towards the sun, but it's hidden behind his glasses. He does like the warmth and sun, but only to an extent, and this is beyond it.

“If you don't want to, we can stay inside,” Sebastian says, enthusiasm faltering momentarily.

"No point flying out to just sit around the hotel."

"You look less pleased to be out here." He's smiling though, starting to walk off towards the town and knowing Jim will stay with him

"Just not a fan of the heat, but can't really do much about it, can I?"

"For once, I guess not."

"I _could_ make you carry a parasol around."

"I think you could probably manage that yourself."

"Yes but why have I brought you along?"

"To make sure you don't die?"

"One of the reasons."

"And I suppose another is to do whatever you tell me. Including holding a parasol if the need arises."

"Exactly. You're quick to catch on, aren't you?"

"Apparently so."

"Knew I kept you for a reason."

"That's sweet of you."

"I'm terribly sweet."

"I can tell. It's overwhelming."

"Isn't that why you like me?"

"Could be that."

"Yeah yeah." Jim rolls his eyes, lost behind the glasses.

“Or it could be an attraction to power.” Sebastian nudges into Jim gently as they walk. “Or danger. Could be that, or...”

“Or...?” Jim smirks, and he tilts his head towards Sebastian, intrigued for him to continue.

“Or it could be how well you can suck a dick.” Sebastian smirks right back.

"That is one of my greater talents. I am truly gifted. Did you know, my mouth was bestowed upon me by the gay gods?"

"I wouldn't doubt that for a second." Sebastian laughs.

Jim licks his lips, grinning up at Sebastian. He likes this version. He's a lot more pleasant than at home, happy and at ease. New country. No one knows him; no expectations. He's far more comfortable here.

“You'll have to teach me some of your tricks,” he says.

"Oh, yes. Don't worry. I'll train you up." Jim gives Sebastian's arm a few pats.

“I don't doubt that either.”

Jim wishes he could keep this Sebastian. Might have to take him to warm places more often. Casually slipping his fingers between Sebastian's, and he doesn't even like hand holding, particularly not in this weather when it's all sweaty and ew, but he's testing limits. Seeing if Sebastian is any more relaxed with casual contact. Sebastian barely even tenses. He just looks surprised, glancing between Jim and their hands, the slightest hint of a frown, because he didn't expect something like this from Jim. Then he smirks again.

“Have you lost your mummy, little boy?”

"Yes." Jim pouts and leans into Sebastian, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Can you help me? She has smaller tits than you, but a better ass."

"Do you think she'd fuck me if I brought you back? I haven't had a decent shag in weeks."

"Will that make you my new daddy?"

"Do you want me to be your daddy?"

Jim regards Sebastian, wide eyed.

"Not really,” he says. “You're ugly."

"You won't have much of a say when your mum tastes my dick. It's like crack. You'll have to call me daddy after that."

"You're the one with daddy issues here, darlin'. Not me."

“Think it's just me?” Sebastian smirks.

"You think _I_ have daddy issues?"

"Lil bit." Sebastian shrugs.

"Please, do expand."

"Uhh, let's see. The dominating men; you always have to be in control. You have to be stronger than him, smarter, more successful. Striving for power, and the suits. Either you want to outdo him, or you want to piss off the memory of him." Sebastian is really just making wild guesses. He doesn't have a clue about Jim's father, he's just throwing things at the wall to see what sticks.

Jim blinks up at him, letting go of his hand.

"My father was an alcoholic who beat me within an inch of my life every chance he got before I was capable of defending myself. Not much to outdo, and I really don't care about pissing off his memory, because he's not even worth remembering."

The smugness immediately drops from Sebastian's face, and he looks down at his feet, hands finding their way to his pockets.

“I didn't know that. I'm sorry,” he says, and it strikes a chord with him. He understands.

“Well, now you do.” Jim's voice is casual, light, devoid of any emotion one might associate with such an experience. It's in the past now. He's killed him, it's over, Jim won in the end.

Sebastian nods vacantly. He's fallen quiet now, and can't help that his mind is replacing his experiences with his own father with Jim, because he has nothing else to go by but his father's own hard discipline. Even those vague thoughts make his jaw tighten. He shakes his head, forcing himself to look up, enjoy the scenery and the buzz as they get closer to the centre, and the people and life of this place. Using that to distract himself.

Jim is a little quieter, but otherwise seems entirely unaffected. He picks up more when they get into the town, because there's things to distract him and information for him to take in, and that will brighten him up in the way the heat does for Sebastian.

"Don't suppose you speak Spanish?" says Sebastian.

"Not fluidly, yet. I've picked a bit up over the past few days."

“You've been studying, then? That's impressive."

"Just a little. Thought it might be necessary."

"I'm sure it'll come in handy."

"We'll see."

"Well, I mean, we're in Spain, chances are. It'd be better than me raising my voice and shouting in broken English at them."

Jim laughs.

"Our associates can speak English,” he says. “My concern was them attempting to speak about us in their language. I want to know what they're saying."

“I just meant me trying to order food.” Sebastian smirks. “But that makes sense."

"So glad one of is is considering the important things."

"Well, a lot of people might overlook food, but it's the fuel that keeps us all going."

"Mhmm."

They move through the streets of Malaga, and Jim is taken in by the architecture. At least between the buildings it is not as sunny, so he is getting a touch of relief. Sebastian follows along happily, letting Jim lead. He's enjoying it himself, but not as much as he's enjoy Jim looking at it all. Absently watching him for a while as they walk along, before he pulls out his huge bottle of water and offers it to Jim.

“You've gotta stay hydrated.”

Jim looks between the bottle and Sebastian, eyebrow raised, but he accepts it because it's hot as hell. It's a wonder he's survived so long without Sebastian, as he just pushes his body to ruin. He shoves the bottle back at Sebastian when he's done, but Sebastian is adapting to his bad temper by now, is less affected.

Jim's researched the areas of interest beforehand, looked up maps and such, so he leads Sebastian around anything he considers worth looking at for a couple of hours, before he starts to grow tired and grumpy. Sebastian picks up on the steady decline of his mood.

“Time to head back?” he says.

Jim is not up for all that walking, so he suggests they have dinner out. Mostly to sit in the shade for a while. He picks a relatively nice looking restaurant, orders Sebastian a chilled beer, himself a glass of wine, and a huge jug of iced water for the table. Sebastian is impressed by how easily the Spanish flows from Jim's tongue, even if he's feeling a bit emasculated having someone order for him.

"I'd almost swear you were a native,” he says, taking a long glug of his beer when it arrives.

"I'm a quick learner." Jim smiles, pouring himself a glass of water as he examines the menu, translating for Sebastian as he does. He ends up ordering a half raw meaty dish for Sebastian, and only a side dish for himself to nibble at. “How do you like Spain?”

“I really love it.” Sebastian grins. “It's beautiful, it's hot, it's different. It's great. You like it?”

"It's nice enough, I suppose. As nice as anywhere."

“It's better than England,” Sebastian says, tilting his head as he takes a drink.

Jim gives a vague hum. He likes England, but places don't hold much meaning for him. He's not sentimental, he doesn't mind either way.

"How's your food?" Sebastian has given up on expecting enthusiasm from Jim, especially with the heat.

"Fine. Yours?"

“Really good!” Sebastian grins.

At least someone is enjoying themselves. Jim abandons his food after he's finished half the plate, sipping at his wine as he looks out the window. Sebastian doesn't speak again until he's cleaned his plate.

“So, what's the plan, then?” he asks.

“The plan for what?” Jim has ordered himself ice cream while Sebastian was eating, and he's taking his time with it, licking his spoon clean after each mouthful.

"For the rest of the day, I guess."

"Nothing for this evening."

"You just want to hang out in the hotel, then?"

"Yeah. I need to over a few last details before tomorrow anyway." Jim already knows them inside out, but he likes to be double sure.

"You wanna talk me through tomorrow again?"

"You just look pretty and scary, sweetheart. I'll deal with the rest."

"I can probably manage that."

"I would hope so."

“What about weapons?"

"A gun should suffice. Maybe a few knives. I'll have secured some by tomorrow."

“Sounds good." Sebastian sits back, draining the rest of his beer.

"It should be cleared up by two, so you will have more time to go skipping though the sunshine."

"I don't skip, but I get your point."

Jim raises an eyebrow as he finishes his ice cream. He's less grumpy now that he's eaten and been in the shade for a while.

“So,” says Sebastian. “You wanna hang around here a bit more or go back?”

"Go back." Jim waves his hand for the bill and deals with that, before, ugh, back into the sun they go, but at least it's cooling down now that it's the evening.

“Think I'd like to live somewhere hot if I got the chance,” Sebastian says, generally pleased, arms swinging by his side as they walk.

“I'd never have guessed.”

“What's the supposed to mean?”

"It's not very difficult to observe your positive reaction to the weather."

“Yeah. Alright.” Sebastian smiles. “It's not like it's intentional."

"I'm aware."

"Too bad it has the opposite effect on you, eh?"

"I prefer moderate temperatures."

"To each their own."

*

Once they get back to the hotel room, Jim immediately starts shedding clothes. He makes a bee line for the shower, ready to wash all the gross sweat and sunscreen off. Sebastian takes a few minutes on the balcony to enjoy the last of the evening sun, before he removes his own clothes and follows Jim into the bathroom, wondering if he's opposed to the idea of Sebastian joining him in the shower.

He finds Jim standing beneath the semi cool water, his face tilted up against the stream, looking blissful. Sebastian smirks at that expression, but Jim doesn't even glance up as he steps into the room. He slips in behind Jim, pressing a kiss to his neck, and the cool water is lovely on his warm skin. Jim leans back against his chest, if only because he's drowsy and tired out from the heat, and it takes less effort than standing on his own.

"Need help getting lathered up?"

Jim gives a quiet hum of encouragement, and Sebastian reaches for the shower gel. He slicks up his hands and starts rubbing the soap into Jim's skin; starting with his shoulders, then moving down his back, crouching to do his legs, and he finishes by rubbing Jim's chest and stomach. Jim makes lovely noises of pleasure, which Sebastian enjoys. Soft moans and quiet pleased sounds that catch in his throat.

Sebastian starts rinsing Jim, lifting the shower head down so he can make sure he's got rid of all the soap.

“Oops.” Sebastian turns up the temperature, hooking the shower back above their heads. “I missed a spot.”

His arms slink around Jim's waist, and he takes a firm hold of his cock. Jim sighs, leaning more firmly back against Sebastian as he slowly starts to jerk him off, taking his time, hand still slick with shower gel. One of Jim's hands clutches at the wet skin of Sebastian's arm, and his other arm curls up around Sebastian's neck to secure him. He tilts his head back for a slippery shower kiss, biting into Sebastian's lip when he finally comes.

Jim's feeling too lazy for all that arm action, so he turns and sinks to his knees, pushing Sebastian out of the water spray so it won't get in his eyes. He glances up through wet lashes, meeting Sebastian's eyes before he takes him into his mouth.

It doesn't take Sebastian much longer to follow Jim over, and when he's done, he fetches a towel and dries Jim off. He dries himself off, and then the pair of them go and flop on the bed, tired from the heat.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian has his first hit, and then they go home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER!! I have no excuses for how late this is. I've just finished the last semester of my degree and I was pretty swamped. I'm sorry for the wait. It's not even exciting enough to make up for it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has waited, to everyone who has followed this story from the start, for all the comments and the kudos; it means a lot, and we really appreciate it. We're glad you've enjoyed this world as much as we enjoyed creating it.
> 
> Trigger warnings:  
> Nothing new, but graphic sex.

Sebastian passes out rather quickly, and his snoring joins Jim's typing as the only sound in the room. He's just checking over details, making sure everything is sorted and sending off some messages. He knows he won't sleep well tonight, not with the heat, so he has no intention of trying until he's properly exhausted. This means he is awake when Sebastian's night terrors hit.

Jim drowsily observes with vague interest as Sebastian whimpers and thrashes. There's a sheen of sweat over his brow and chest, and Jim knows it is from more than the heat. His teeth are clenched, his lips trembling, and his eyelids are flickering like he's about to wake up, but he doesn't. After a few minutes, he simply settles back into sleep, and the loud, rumbling snores soon return.

Jim doesn't mention it in the morning, when Sebastian rises with the sun, which is just as well; Sebastian rarely remembers in the morning, and if he thought Jim had witnessed him in such a vulnerable state, he'd be tempted to avoid sleep altogether while around him. Which would be tricky, considering how little Jim sleeps. He'd only drifted off just over an hour before Sebastian stirs, so he groans in irritation when Sebastian starts his morning exercise routine at the foot of the bed, throwing a pillow at him.

“Is it necessary for you to do that in here?”

Sebastian stoops to avoid the pillow, and his _oof oof oof_ sounds of exertion cut off.

“Too dangerous to do it outside in the morning heat,” he says, slightly breathless as he stands with his hands on his hips over the bed. “So unless you have a better idea...”

When Jim gives him no reply, Sebastian starts doing jumping jacks with a smirk, drawing a noise of irritation from Jim. He burrows back into the bed, but he's awake for good now. Sebastian just chuckles at his moodiness; he's never happier than early morning, post exercise, and on a sunny day. He's nothing but cheery when he drops back down beside Jim, making the bed tumble and bounce.

“I hate you,” Jim grumbles, tired and grumpy.

He looks it, too. Dark around the eyes hair a mess from all his rolling around, and the heat, sweat sticking it every direction. Sebastian emits a hurt hum, nosing beneath the blankets to get at Jim's cheek, kissing his ear.

“You don't mean that.”

Jim lets out an annoyed sigh and presses his face into the pillow, but he doesn't shrug Sebastian off, so he continues his line of kisses down Jim's neck. His fingers stroke through Jim's hair and play with the ends. Jim's a touch surprised at the continued affection. Clearly the sun is good for Sebastian.

“You've woken up to worse, right?”

"Don't wanna be awake,” Jim says. “That's the problem.”

"You think you'd be able to sleep again if I left?"

"Not now. You've made sure that I'm awake for good now."

“I'm gonna go get a shower,” Sebastian says, nibbling at Jim's ear.

“Good for you.”

“Come on.” He gives one last nip to Jim's neck before he sits up. “Today's going to be fun.”

Jim pushes himself into a sitting position, blearily glaring at Sebastian with half hearted anger, and Sebastian returns a wide grin.

“You know it is,” he says.

"Yes, because I'm going to kill you."

“Don't think I deserve _that_.”

Sebastian takes himself off to the shower when Jim looks at him like he'd argue that point, leaving Jim to sort out his clothes for their meeting. He's going to die in a suit mixed with this heat, but it's all about presentation. Sebastian is only a few minutes in the shower, and Jim trades places with him when he returns.

Sebastian opens the doors to their balcony and sprawls out on the bed, not even bothering to towel dry, just letting the sunlight do that for him. Jim comes back to find him lounging in the square of sun from the window like a cat. He ignores him while he dries off and combs his hair, and by then he's hot all over again. Blast this heat. Copious amounts of gel applied to assure his hair won't frizz up, and he pulls on loose clothes for breakfast. Partially going just because he knows he has to feed Sebastian. Like a pet, right?

The hotel serves a continental breakfast, and Sebastian makes about five hundred (four, but still) journeys to the breakfast table before he's finally satisfied. Meanwhile, Jim eats half a chocolate croissant and nibbles at fruit while sipping juice. With Sebastian all full and sleepy, Jim leaves him to lounge by the pool for a while. When he returns, he has a few guns and some pretty knives, but he hopes they won't have to use them.

Sebastian follows him to the bedroom and examines the weapons while Jim gets dressed. The outfit Jim has laid out for him isn't as bad as he expected; just a nice button up shirt. He's even allowed to wear his shorts. His attention quickly wanders from the guns to Jim, and he smirks at him, not even attempting to disguise it; he always did like the look of Jim in a suit.

"See something you like?" Jim's attitude is shifting and changing, becoming more and more his business persona.

Sebastian nods as he tucks away his weapons, trying to hide the bumps.

“Not sure I look presentable enough to stand next to you,” he says. “Or maybe that's the idea? So I don't steal your show.”

"Didn't think you'd appreciate me jamming you into a suit in that weather."

“Probably not. You think you can survive it?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine. Ready?"

Sebastian cards a hand through his hair and checks everything's tucked away, before he flips a knife handle side for Jim to take.

“Keep this on you, yeah?”

“Let's go play,” Jim says, sliding the knife into one of his inner pockets.

There is a car waiting to take them to a stuffy, dull, very long meeting. Sebastian is on his best behaviour, very professional, looking menacing behind Jim and stealing admiring glances towards him when no one's looking. He misses some of the details, but he knows it goes well overall, no mishaps, and he gets a rush from the whole thing; playing the muscle, watching Jim all assertive and professional.

They come out of the meeting a lot richer than they went in.

*

“I have a little surprise for you,” Jim says, on the drive back to the hotel.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What's that, then?”

“A chance for you to show off your talent.”

“You mean-?”

“I have a hit for you.”

“Really?” Sebastian sits straighter, excitement showing in his features. “When?”

“Tomorrow, and the gang it's for have arranged body disposal, so we don't have to worry about that.”

Sebastian is thrumming with energy at this news, just as Jim knew he would be; at the opportunity to hold a rifle again, show off his skills again, kill for Jim, again.

“I can't wait.”

*

Sebastian spends the evening alternating between swimming and sunbathing, while Jim lounges under one of the big umbrellas and reads, occasionally glancing over his book at Sebastian. When he's tired himself out, Sebastian retires to the edge of the pool, dipping his feet and unashamedly watching some of the girls sunbathing. Giving them silly looks that make them giggle.

After a while, he comes to sit on a lounger next to Jim's with a content sigh, topping up his sunscreen and drinking water.

“Must be a good book,” he says, glancing at Jim's cover; some scientific title he's never heard of.

“It's interesting enough, although I've found several flaws in the theory.”

“Can they get published if they're flawed?"

"Of course. They're theories. They don't realise they're flawed, but I can see the faults."

"You should be proof reading all of them. Spare the writers some embarrassment."

"I don't have time for that,” Jim smiles. “But it's fun to see their silly ideas on occasion.”

"That's your idea of fun, is it?"

"Got a problem with that?"

"Just a little bit sad, isn't it?"

"You've literally just been splashing around all day. At least I'm intellectually stimulating myself."

"It's my gift to the world,” Sebastian says, sprawling back on his lounger. “I'm physically stimulating myself, and erotically stimulating everyone around me."

"Okaaaaay." Jim snaps his book shut and sits up a little straighter, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "I'm assuming you've also stimulated your hunger."

“Do you even really have to ask?” When is Sebastian ever not hungry?

"Where do you want to eat? We could go out somewhere, or eat here."

"I'm fine with just staying here."

Jim just wants to get out of the sun for a bit, so he leads the way in. Sebastian is left to quickly gather all their stuff and throw on an open shirt, following Jim at a jog to catch up with him.

In the hotel restaurant, Sebastian eats and eats like he has a fucking tape worm, watching Jim sip on a cocktail with a little umbrella in it.

“You like those fruity little drinks.”

“Amazing observational skills.” Jim arches an eyebrow, watching Sebastian eat like an elephant as he nibbles on some fries.

“Is it because of the pretty colours or do you really like the taste?” That earns Sebastian a swift kick to the shin. “Alright! I was just asking.”

"Don't ask ridiculous questions. I don't waste time with anything if I don't like it."

"Awh, Jim,” Sebastian smirks, smug. “I didn't know you cared."

Jim rolls his eyes, flinging a fry at Sebastian's head. Sebastian bats it away, still smirking. He knows some part of Jim cares. Yes, he has a good master. He is very well looked after.

“That's not a denial. Aww. _Awwwww_.”

"There are aspects of you I enjoy. Why else would I keep you around?"

“Like what?” Sebastian leans forward, still smiling as Jim looks him over.

"Your mouth and hands."

Sebastian's smile shifts into something more filthy.

“Is that all?” he asks.

"Well, your abilities do tie in with your hands."

"I suppose that's true."

"It is."

"My hands and my mouth," Sebastian says, really just to himself, to let it set in. He sits back, finally full, hand resting on his stomach. His mind starts wandering to tomorrow, anticipation building beneath his skin again.

“Excited?” Jim glances up from poking at the last of his fries, looking at Sebastian curiously.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, once he's connected Jim's question to his thoughts. Getting used to Jim's ability to do that now. “I think so.”

"It'll be nice to see you hit a live target." Jim smirks, clearly enjoying the idea. Sebastian hums in response, enjoying that expression.

“You'll be with me, then?”

"Oh yes. You don't expect me to miss your first hit, do you?"

“Is that just to make sure I don't fuck up?” Sebastian's smile falters, and a wicked flash of smile lights up Jim's face.

“Perhaps.”

“You reckon I'll get nervous and choke?"

"I wouldn't have hired you if I thought that."

"So, what, then? You think I'll _miss_?"

"I said nothing of the sort."

"So you know I'll get the job done and all will be well?"

"I certainly hope so."

"Well... Good." Sebastian falls quiet for a moment, watching Jim's lips around his straw as he finishes his drink. "I wouldn't mind going out tonight or tomorrow morning to check the area around where I'm supposed to take the target out. Find a hide, or something. Know the place."

"We can go tonight, if you wish." It's cooler in the evenings. Jim can deal with that. "It's not particularly far from here."

“Yeah, that'd be great."

*

Their location is a thirty minute walk from the hotel, and Jim indicates where the mark will be coming from and heading towards when they arrive. Sebastian takes a mental note of that, then his eyes are moving, marking out places he can possibly position himself, set up. The place doesn't seem too big, the mark too important, the hit too difficult; but he has things to consider in populated areas. He's mostly quiet, only speaking to ask Jim the odd question about the target, the area, his equipment. Then he walks off to check potential hides.

Jim enjoys watching Sebastian look so focused, and when he disappears, Jim settles himself in the shade to wait. That's where Sebastian finds him when he returns, leaning drowsily against a wall.

“Ready to head back?” Sebastian looks a lot more relaxed now that he's seen the place.

“Ready if you are.” Jim pushes away from the wall, and Sebastian naturally falls into step just slightly behind him.

Once they get back, Jim disappears off to the shower. Sebastian strips down to his underwear and drops onto the bed, legs still hanging over the end. He's just realising how much he smells like chlorine. Tells himself he'll shower when Jim's done, but he knows it'll more likely be in the morning.

Jim comes out ruffling his hair with a towel so it's no longer dripping. He slips in to a pair of briefs and nudges Sebastian with his knee, and Sebastian takes the signal, drags himself up to lie on the bed properly. He's half asleep already, and it doesn't take him long to drop off. Jim follows soon after, two days of heat and the mostly sleepless previous night catching up with him.

*

Jim disappears during breakfast, returning with a rifle for Sebastian. He takes the short time he has in the room to familiarise himself with the gun, before the pair of them are heading out to the location again. He's found an abandoned floor of a building to set up in, and he takes his time positioning himself, placing netting over the window at an angle so you can't see him. Now all that's left is to wait.

Jim is really annoying in that he lingers far too close behind Sebastian, practically breathing against his ear. He's eager to see Sebastian's first official hit, and this is his first outing with a sniper. Sebastian can brush him off to an extent, used to blocking out distractions, just quiet and waiting; entirely focused on his scope, calm and collected.

When the mark enters his sight, he carefully aims, breathes, and pulls the trigger all in a matter of seconds. The man crumbles. Sebastian watches him fall; the confusion, the shock, the blood, spreading and blooming around his perfect shot, before he spins and crumples to the ground. Jim's breath hitches slightly as the body hits the ground, and then he's pressed along Sebastian's back fully, closer to the window to see better, and Sebastian can feel him, a strip of heat.

“Good boy.”

“Enjoy that, boss?” Sebastian tilts his head back, feeling the pleasant post-kill rush. Euphoria. Taking a life and knowing it brings him that bit closer to immortality.

"Oh, yes," Jim breathes out, more exhale than words, and he drags his nails along Sebastian's scalp. Good boy, such a good boy, so eager to please. "Gather your things. Quickly."

Sebastian hums his pleasure before he moves to pack away his rifle. They shouldn't be spotted, but better to get out quickly anyway. Precautions, precautions. Sebastian does a quick check to make sure there are no traces of their presence, before nodding for Jim to lead them out.

“Well,” Jim says, once they are safely back at the hotel. “You certainly didn't disappoint, darlin'.”

“I never do.” Sebastian smiles at Jim. The rush of adrenaline has left him feeling so alert, so aware. He prowls closer, in the best mood he's been since they arrived.

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves, hm?” Jim smooths his hand up over Sebastian's chest to his shoulders. “But for today you did excellently."

“Maybe I'm on a roll.” Sebastian grips the waist of Jim's trousers and drags him closer, baring his teeth in a dangerous smile. Jim looks up though those dark, feminine lashes, that little seductive curve at the edge of his mouth.

"I have no one else for you to kill."

"I'm sure there are other things we could do."

“What would you suggest?” Jim's hands slide down along Sebastian's arms now, feeling those nice muscles.

“I could fuck you into next week,” Sebastian says, voice low and rough.

"You'd have to fuck me pretty hard to manage that."

“Well.” Smirking, Sebastian leans in to growl against Jim's ear. “I'll just have to do my best.”

Jim presses himself up against Sebastian, hands moving up to grip his hair, redirecting his mouth to Jim's. Sebastian kisses him roughly, getting a grip at Jim's throat and using it to push him back against the wall. That has Jim whimpering against his mouth. His own hands are going everywhere, nails in action, pulling and clawing as if he could tear Sebastian apart.

Sebastian releases him briefly so he can pull his shirt up and over his head, giving Jim better access, just opening himself to attack, really. Skin bared to him, Jim sets himself to trying to draw blood while grinding forward against Sebastian as best as he can from this position. Sebastian responds with little ripples of growls as he tears into undressing Jim, needing flesh, needing Jim's skin pressed against his own.

Jim breaks contact to raise his arms, t-shirt abandoned, then he ducks, teeth instead of claws this time, sinking them nice and hard into Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian emits a sharp hiss from between his teeth, returning the aggression as he shoves Jim into the wall again, digging his fingers into Jim's hips hard enough to bruise. Jim just grinds his teeth, feeling skin break beneath then, before leaving a string of bites to Sebastian's neck; sucking some nice bruises there. There is skin building up beneath his nails by now.

Sebastian's hands are at Jim's shorts, pulling forcefully to get the button free and then dragging the zip down. He pushes them down Jim's thighs along with his underwear, stands on them as he pulls Jim's feet free, and then his hand is on Jim's cock, just too tight. He strokes Jim firmly; once, twice, and then his fingers are slipping back towards Jim's arse before it dawns on him that Jim is not a girl. There is no natural lubricant ready to wet his fingers, and Sebastian is momentarily lost. He blinks dumbly at Jim.

“We need lube?”

Jim's chest is still rising and falling with each heavy breath. There is a flush making its way up his neck, and his pupils are blown wide. His tongue slips out to dampen his lips.

“Move.” He pushes Sebastian out of the way and moves towards his suitcase, digging through it before pulling out a bottle of lube. Sebastian uses this time to strip himself down; his own cock hard and heavy between his legs, throbbing, ready to be inside Jim. If he were a girl Sebastian would be fucking him into the wall by now.

Gay sex has a lot of complications, he thinks. Not the best for spontaneity.

“Here.” Jim throws the bottle at him and Sebastian catches it easily.

“Were you planning on this happening?”

Jim shrugs.

“Never hurts to be prepared,” he says.

At another time, Sebastian might discuss this further, but as it is, he really just wants to be inside Jim. Like five minutes ago.

Some of the urgent heat is gone from between them, and Sebastian makes an effort to get it back, pressing Jim against the wall once again. He lifts one of his pale thighs and hooks it over his hip, squeezing lube into his palm and coating his fingers thickly in it. It smells lightly of strawberries. Sebastian misses the smell of pussy. To distract himself, he presses kisses to Jim's throat as his fingers slide back to enter him.

He's done this before, a few times, with girls, so he knows immediately when he slips one finger in to Jim and meets little resistance that Jim has prepared himself ahead of time.

“You little slut.”

Jim grins up at him, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Thought I'd save you some time. After all, it's difficult for older men to retain an erection, isn't- _oh._ ”

Sebastian silences Jim by sliding his finger out and pushing two in, hard. He sets up a fast rhythm, fucking Jim open with his fingers. Jim's head falls back against the wall and his hips press forward. Gasps and moans are trickling from his lips and Sebastian wants to drink them all up.

“Oh, fuck, yes, Sebastian. Mmm. So forceful. So worked up. Does killing for me make you horny, darlin'? Taking a life on my command? I think it does. Blood and brains splattered everywhere, a life ended just like that, and all you can think about is jamming your cock into me as soon as possible.”

Jim is babbling, barely aware of what he's saying, but his words are centred on violence and they're making Sebastian's cock throb. He presses it against Jim's thigh for some light relief as he presses a third finger into Jim. His patience is growing thin, and it's not long before he's removing his fingers and slicking up his cock, moaning at finally, finally receiving some touch, some friction. Then he has Jim hitched beneath the thighs, heaving him up the wall to show off his strength.

They moan together as Sebastian finally enters Jim, pushing his cock slowly but steadily until he has filled Jim, until Jim is hot and tight and fucking perfect all around him.

“Better than any girl,” Jim murmurs, but there's a bite to it. It's not a question.

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes.” Sebastian kisses any part of him he can reach; his neck, his face, his shoulder, his hair. Then he's moving his hips, fucking Jim hard and fast against the wall, seeking his own pleasure just as much as Jim's. The awkward fumbling is over; Sebastian is good at this part, is in his element, and Jim's vocal feedback only assures him of his performance.

Jim writhes and moans and murmurs a slur of filthy dirty talk that only encourages Sebastian. It's only when he gets close that his words melt away into whimpers and whines, his nails biting in to Sebastian's shoulders. Sebastian reaches down to roughly jerk him off, sacrificing his fast rhythm to focus on getting Jim off. Jim's whole body quivers when he finally comes apart, head thrown back, that throat bared to Sebastian's eager mouth; and he sucks a bruising claim into it while Jim's come is hot against his stomach.

“Come on, 'Bastian. Come for me. There's my good boy.”

It doesn't take long for Sebastian to following, making an animal sound as he presses Jim harder into the wall, fingers leaving bruises on his thighs, and when he's done he gently lowers Jim to the ground, his own legs feeling shaky beneath him. Jim's fingers drag through Sebastian's hair, momentary praise, then he's off to the shower.

Sebastian flops back on the bed. His back is raw and covered in scratch marks, his skin damp with sweat, and his breath coming in pants. He goes for a quick rinse when Jim's done, and returns to find him already asleep. Sebastian smiles as he slips in to bed beside him, but that's okay, because no one sees it.

*

Sebastian wakes uncomfortably hot, with Jim pretzeled around him. He stirs when Sebastian tries to move, whining in protest, but at least Sebastian is free to do his exercises now. Jim watches him sleepily for a bit before he rises and dresses, gathering their weapons.

“Sorry to separate you, but these have to go.”

“Yeah, shame that,” Sebastian says.

“Cheer up. We'll get you some pretty new toys when we get home.”

“Need a hand?”

“I can manage. I'll meet you down at breakfast.”

Sebastian's on his third plate of food by the time Jim shows up for breakfast, and he's pleased to see Jim actually eating for once.

“You're going to miss the sun,” Jim says, tearing off chunks of croissant.

“Definitely will.”

"You've gone quite an appealing colour."

“You didn't burn this time, at least.”

“Amen for small mercies.”

Sebastian smiles, then stretches his arm out to examine his lovely colour.

“It'll be a sad day when this fades,” he says.

“Could always pop to the tanning salon,” Jim teases, smirking at Sebastian as he sips his tea.

“You know, I think I'll pass.”

“We have three hours before we leave for the airport.” Jim looks Sebastian over approvingly. “If you wish to get more sun.”

“I could be tempted. What are you gonna do?”

"Going to make sure everything is packed and ready to go. Might sit on the balcony and read for a bit."

"I'll just be out by the pool, then. You can give me a shout if you need me."

They separate and Jim makes sure everything is packed away; both his own belongings, and Sebastian's, just to be certain. Then he sits in the shady part of the balcony until it's time to check out. He calls by the pool to collect Sebastian after he hands the room key back.

“Ready to go home?”

Sebastian pulls himself up out of the pool, and with a lopsided smile, he nods.

*

“Look at that,” Jim says as they step out onto the train platform at Gatwick. “Raining already.”

Sebastian is coming behind him, carrying both their bags. His mood has dropped already, ever since they passed through security in Spain. He frowns up at the sky.

“Joy.”

“Aw, the weather is gloomy enough without you joining it.” Jim flashes him a playful smile. The contrast to Sebastian, his mood has improved in the cooler weather.

“Yeah, well, you look happy enough.”

"London is just as good to me as anywhere."

"Good way to think."

"Precisely." Jim leads the way onto the train. "Besides, I'm looking forward to this week."

“What's this week? House hunt?”

"Oh yes."

“Didn't think you'd be overly excited about something like that.” Sebastian raises his eyebrows, but there's a smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

“I enjoy change every so often.”

“How long until you change me for someone different?”

"Depends how long you keep me interested."

"Not sure I can do much more to surprise you. Not sure I've ever been able to surprise you, actually."

"I said interested, not surprised. Do pay attention, darling."

"I know. I just meant... What, you don't think surprise equals interest?"

"Not all surprises are pleasant."

"Good point."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that,” Jim says, giving Sebastian a pat on the thigh before proceeding to ignore him for the half hour journey to Victoria.

They hit rush hour on their way home, and the tubes are packed; not that Jim seems to mind. He manages to position himself so he's pressed right up against Sebastian, wriggling his ass back against him while Sebastian is stuck holding on to the nearest support to keep them upright, and doing his best to think of horrible awful things. It's worse because Jim isn't even acknowledging it, the little shit. He's texting away as if he's completely oblivious, leaning back into Sebastian so he doesn't have to support himself.

It's a relief when they reach their station, and a further relief when Jim hails a cab from the station to his flat so Sebastian doesn't have to carry their bags the whole way. Once they're back in the familiarity of Jim's flat, he pops the kettle on.

“So, first official job. You enjoyed it.”

"Assuming that was more statement than question,” Sebastian says.

"It was, but you can take it as a question as you wish. I know how you like to make conversation."

"I think I said all I had to on the subject after we got to the hotel." Sebastian snorts.

"Definitely a positive reaction." Jim smiles at the memory.

"I thought so, too." Sebastian catches that smile, responding with a cocky smirk. "Guessing you enjoyed the show?"

"Oh yes. 4 out of 5 stars."

“For the gunshow?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow. "What didn't you like?"

"It's not about what I like or not, but there is always room for improvement."

"I've been professionally trained and firing guns since I was a kid. And there's room for improvement?"

"There's _always_ room for improvement."

"Sure you wouldn't say that about yourself."

"I'm always improving."

Sebastian watches him for an absent smile. His lips part, but then the kettle clicks, and whatever he was going to say is lost as he busies himself making his coffee and Jim's tea. Jim disappears to stick the heating on, and they meet on the couch. Jim clicks on the television and the Jeremy Kyle show is on.

“Back to bad TV then?” Sebastian asks, handing Jim his tea.

"It does seem like such a step down, doesn't it?" Jim smirks, subtly shifting closer to Sebastian.

"Just feels weird that we were in Spain this morning, now we're back on your couch."

"Are you going to get all philosophical on me?"

“Hardly. Just saying it's weird."

"That's life."

"Alright, Sinatra."

"Such wit."

"Thanks. It's a natural talent."

"You coming viewing with me?" Jim asks, although he doesn't need the answer; Sebastian is, whether he wants to or not.

"Already said I would, didn't I? You got places lined up?"

"Yes. I've got eleven this week. Four Tuesday, three Wednesday, another four on Friday."

“Quite a few options, then."

"Well I want to make sure I like it and it's decent. I am going to be living there, after all."

"Still want me to move in with you?"

"Yes."

"I still have a few months left on my lease, but I think I could be okay with that."

“Excellent.”

Jim smiles. Sebastian returns it. Wow. Moving in with Jim. That's something he didn't expect to happen, but it's been a lot easier than he expected these past few days. He's sure he can be fine with it.

Jim has shifted right against his side now, and Sebastian doesn't flinch, doesn't even feel uncomfortable; because it's not even affection, it's just Jim getting comfortable, using him as furniture, normal Jim behaviour that he's become accustomed to.

“Hey! That guy in the audience looks like me,” Sebastian says, with a snort of amusement.

"So he does. Bit cuter." He's not but Jim likes to wind Sebastian up, it's one of his simple pleasures in life.

"He's like the actual gay version of me."

"Because he's wearing a pink shirt?"

"And he's in the Jeremy Kyle audience."

"He's not gay."

"Oh come on. He couldn't be any more obvious about it if he shoved his dick up Jezza."

"You have _no_ gaydar at all,” Jim says.

"You're so full of shit."

"Yeah, because I'm never right."

"You must be pulling my leg on this one. He's definitely gay."

"Nooope."

"He's wearing pink, clearly dyes his hair, loves Jeremy Kyle so much he's in an audience which is predominantly women. And even just way he's sitting. How could he be straight?"

"He's there with his girlfriend. He's sitting like that because he's bored. You're so off."

“Know it all." Sebastian rolls his eyes, slumping back in defeat.

"That's me.” Jim grins.

“Is Shrek actually the dad, then?"

"Unfortunately for that child, yes."

"These people shouldn't be allowed to breed."

"Unfortunately forced sterilisation is 'inhumane' or something."

"Looked into it before, have you?" Sebastian smirks.

"Quite sure that's common knowledge."

"Could always claim ignorance of the law."

"Not sure that would fly."

"If there's anything that should be worth turning into a vigilante, it's making sure things like that can't spawn."

Jim hums his agreement. He sets his cup aside, nudging Sebastian into shape so he can lounge against him.

“How do they even get shagged in the first place?” he ponders aloud.

"Well, according to you, I'm an ugly old bastard and I still manage it. Must have low standards, no taste. Maybe low self esteem."

"Hey!" Jim slaps Sebastian's arm for that., but Sebastian only smirks down at him.

"Well, what other reason could there be for someone to shag a saggy, ugly, old man?"

"You're right." Jim frowns a little, makes a thoughtful hum in his throat. "I should shag someone else then."

"I should, too,” Sebastian says, nodding seriously. “Someone who appreciates what a gift I am."

"A gift... Yeah. Okay."

“Because obviously I'm a gift from God, right?"

"Shame I don't believe in any deities. Perhaps that's why I don't cherish you."

"Ah, don't be so hard on yourself. You do alright for a heathen."

"Oh, gosh, I'm so glad."

“It's you're own fault. You have me spoiled, now. I'm like one of those puffy little dogs always humping your leg."

"Oh dear. In that case perhaps I'd better get _you_ neutered."

"Not my manhood!” Sebastian pouts. “Anything but my manhood!"

"I've heard dogs behave better after the snip. Might be worthwhile."

"They don't make good fighters or guards though. I'd be useless."

"Perhaps." Jim hums thoughtfully.

"Not worth the risk."

"I could always get a new guard dog."

"Or just not do it at all."

“It would have it's downsides...” Jim idly traces his fingers up along Sebastian's thigh.

“Definitely not worth it.

"We'll see,” Jim says, giving Sebastian's dick a little pat.

“No, we won't.”

Jim curls against his side again and Sebastian's attention returns to the screen just in time to see that Jim is right, that the ogre looking monstrosity is indeed the father. Little fucker is always right. Sebastian's going to have his hands full living with him.

He can't wait.

 


End file.
